"She"

Overtime and space, women came in life of men

escalating their life and giving new dimension with direction

Mention not erection at times, but perversion is just another

Way of art, art of making love, knowing and exploring one’s fantasies;

While sometimes one may find themselves in very atypical position �"

Position of being not only organically but chemically attracted to -

a capricious person, where the word platonic will be appropriate. 

 

If one man ever needs to persuade a feminine desire of being complemented,

accolade them for their long eyelashes and fathomlessly fathomed eyes

Their syrupy succulent lips, and long pointed fingers. They don’t need a man to say words

On their buttocks or breasts or the saccharine accumulated smell of sweat between them.

They need to be touched, touched like none ever did, sometimes they enjoy more

Of one’s brain than pelt, where in the corner of mind one can exploit her fantasies uniquely. 

 

Love is another issue, another type of hormonal misbalance, where one

Gives more earnest concentration on morals of relation and myths of

life  & afterlife, than just whacking a vagina, in every way or the other.  

No, no I’m not here to talk about men and their ways, or women and their composition.

It’s not commerce, it’s personal, and I am telling you all I faced! all this flaccid things,

though they brought me to life. How? Then you must know about her - She”.

 

Midst the twilight of an August sunset, zephyr moving alone my hair

The tobacco pipe, smoked with weed, and the marijuana packs on table

A view of dusk afar the sphere of the lash emerald, in front my villa lawn.

Pouring some more schnapps in my sweet round glass

Saw a girl, sitting alas, in the corner of the lawn’s step mast.

Her eyes were like cocaine, supernovas occurring in crystal jet black eyeballs

Like a witch archangel, she a tanned girl, rose in her black gown ending just above her knees,

& I said; “Hey miss, come down here and sit please.”

She turned as the tepid gust combed through her labyrinth like hair.

She came down softly and perched on the chair white, the dimming sunlight on her

Face, looked so bright. I advanced a glass of beverage of fine ether, she took and gulped in down

hasty, like thirsted for time so long. I cared for her less, as my own ferryman was calling near,

my children’s were deceased, and my eyes were full of dehydrated tears.

As a man alone I shared my purgatorial story with walls, now I felt like ancient mariner.

She listened, & listened she so well, spoke very few of her twinge & drunk my pain like a whale.

And the anecdote rest became all uncanny!   My ferryman returned to hell, as I was tardy, “she”

Hypnotized I with her eyes, and it was so great! What if so I pass on many deaths, but

mystifying beauties are all to die for! Her misery was gone with forwarding time-

Though I was primed for another heartache, but it’s not a transgression. Die in love, or in blaze of glory

Thank you lady, ‘because you stopped me from being fade away in the story,

Or as a man who sold his pride to his infidelity committed bride.

Reviews

[smurfett]

As a man alone I shared my purgatorial story with walls...love this line. I think we've all been there at one time or another. This was erotic, sad, hopeless and hopeful all at the same time. Beautifully written...thank you!

[Aneek Acharya Pandit]

Thank you for your precious comment Smurfett. :)

[Sami Khalil]

"Die in love, or in blaze of glory

Thank you lady, ‘because you stopped me from being fade away in the story,"

A splendid read and write...Thank you for penning...:)

[Aneek Acharya Pandit]

Thank you so much for reviewing this, & also thanks for liking this Sami Khalil

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)