Rainless Erotic Slumbers of November

One single mattress wrapped in one double bed sheet
Two single homeothermic mammals lay sprawled on it
A closely knit airy limb mesh
Curtained by sandal scented fresh skin robes
The melodic burble of their thoughts coiling along a dream dimension
Babe lovers bathing in a fountain of tempestuous breaths

On the chest of his, locks of her
Rising and falling
A pounding heart
A restless beast
Caged by the symmetry of commercial love
His beat her puff
His huff her beat
A pure syndrome of rhythm
A watery song of innocent crests
A fierce tale of adulterated troughs

On the cheek of her, scruff of his
Embalming the taste of berry lips
In the tongue’s wild mnemonic
A pride possession of his boyish taste
A dinner reservation of she in he
Are we us? Must we RSVP?

Rapid eye concerto
In the scale of a sharp major obsession
If only I could sing you in key
Of a dark purple shy confetti

Sugary stars sprinkled
Against the backdrop of a winter lake
Dreams of green satin
Alleys aligning along their tilted town
A twinkling drought comes by
Ridding the land of cotton
A burning drought chuckles
Now ridding the sky

Ripples through an absence of clouds
Riddles of a clear blue high
Bodily manifestation of a mutual dream
Maroon evenings
Part death part moan
Part meeting of their juicy eyes

Plasma sleep gels their fantasies
In murky arrogance
Their fragrant flesh develops an appetite for passion
Suspended bodies of relaxed puppets
The blanketing warmth deepens
It plunges into the clear salty sky

I doze through a breezy salvation
For I lay with my love in naught and vain
I lay with my zesty saccharine cloud
In the land of sin, hence, it cannot rain

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About Priyal Maheshwari

Sometimes I say witty things. Other times, I write and move.

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