Thursday, 6 May 2021

Slyly

Love, tender and raw,

I begin to taste

Between my fingers and

In my hungry mouth

The company of a lover

Flick of the tongue and pleasing sighs

The fragrance of golden champak

And a moon sliver that shines

Sensuous whispers and thirsty pecks

And lingering caresses on the spine

A secret known only to the

Trees that swayed that night

And not to the petty world

That obliviously would deny

The stealthy affair of energies

Unsurprisingly mysterious and unavoidably sly.

 

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