Another Landscape
Your tongue paints shadows of the mist on my breast
While your fingertips trace the wild grass that spring from my navel
You drench me in fire as your lips move to another crevice
And the sun rises every time your eyes meet mine
Don’t stop
Don’t stop
Melt away the silence of the icicles that have gathered in every crease of my body
I have been wanting to burst into rain
While your fingertips trace the wild grass that spring from my navel
You drench me in fire as your lips move to another crevice
And the sun rises every time your eyes meet mine
Don’t stop
Don’t stop
Melt away the silence of the icicles that have gathered in every crease of my body
I have been wanting to burst into rain
Labels: poetry
Selected by Anonymous |
14:27 |
6 Comments:
And what splendid rain!
'spring' in the second line should be 'springs'. :)
sensuous and so beautiful.
arundhati...what a season! reign on!
Amazing.
Awesome.
Went straight to heart.
Reminds me of Nabokov for some strange reason.
Anyway, loved it very very much.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
You have a wonderful way to mould words into tight emotive sentences. And you are pretty prolific to boot.
PS. Still getting used to these interfaces, accidently deleted my earlier comment
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