You hypnotize me, sprinkling honey into the soft evening winds so when they graze against my skin - my soul loses its gravity and spins eternally into the black hole of your sweet vices. You sting me like a scorpion and peel my heart open like how they remove the fibrous coconut coir - to show me what's hidden inside. All that I am left with is a pair of lungs full of breath holding poetry - with all the schematic rhyming and the music. I could hear the distant sound of the clarinets and the lyres growing stronger at the passing of every second, and it befuddles me to do something crazy. So I try to flap - first slowly and then fast - only to discover to my amusement that I'm one of those mutant humans who had wings. You wouldn't believe if I told you that I did fly - flew so high - like a kite, without knowing if it was east or west, or north or south. In simple words, you put me up there in the high skies, totally lost.
You intoxicate me, the smell of your lips is far more stronger than the best fragrance of all the exotic flowers found on earth. I want to know how you managed to plant a tempest inside my heart because it demolishes me from within. The very gaze of yours disintegrates me like how dandelions become dust, it belittles the wild me into a lit wax candle that melts. You - with ease - spin a piece of dry hay into rainbow and shatter a hard stone into slimy clay, but how? I'm trying hard but your image doesn't disappear at all even if I opened my eyes - I'm confused if this is some form of lucid dream. There wouldn't be any worry if only I were a bee that sleeps on the comforting lap of flower petals. If only.
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