Yesterday
i'd resolved to finish the poem: your mouth
a swollen ripe pomegranate, the recoil
of your nipples on my tongue, the thick
grassy smell that fogs over your skin. each line
a metaphorically chosen rhyme
to tell you i burn, even
when i am not with you.
Today
i am teary, (and not
from falling in your eyes) - i have
a fever, and all i want is to
set my muzzle on your thighs like
a lovelorn dog. you noticed i could write?
i have gained a yearning that is stronger.
10 comments:
:)
hmm. bad flu. but poem lovely. not to be too much spoken about.
unbojangles but very nice :) hope you recover soon.
cheers!
thanks. may be it's the fever. been a constant 102 all of last night.
hee hee hee very nice poem ............. me hasn't read much of your stuff before ....... now I shall :)
till then get well soon .........
wow..erotica! :)
Don't credit your talents to the nasty fever
Get well soon..and let the poetry continue to flow...:)
it's a well known fact people get horny either when they're ill or at funerals. the fear of mortality leads to the desire to procreate.
on a non factual note, it's a good poem....
actually, it's not Erotica in that sense - it's about two aspects to longing for the same person; passionate longing and compassionate longing. and how i could finally write only when i was overcome by the later.
Very un u but makes damn interesting mind images :D
Pics upload karna hi hai then might as well put up pictures that do justice to your good-looks na? :)
hehe, thanks for the compliment. but ya.. i almost started searching for a pic to go with the post when i realized i was the one with the fever, and so it made sense.
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