Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 22, 2016





The day I stole butterflies from your lips
you stole peace of my mind inscribed
in body’s abysmal deeps,
inflaming thoughts of union in the vacuum
breeding lotuses in joints’ dried-up creeks,
but you hid your real self
at the corner of some dark sanctorum;

strangely I sought your shadow everywhere
and loved every little thing about you:
the henna on your palms ignited my eyes
and I longed to burn with them to colors new,
with each sunrise
you were the sun in every drop of desire’s dew;
the champak in your youthful breath
many a forbidden desire did brew;
and secretly I thought over the enigma
in your half-bloomed smiles
that hid some drops of tear while revealing a few.

The day you stole dream from my sleep
I have been awake throughout all night
to wander like a lone, lost glowworm
in a stranger’s bedroom in dark-dim light.

Copy right : Dr S.K.Padhi / July 2016

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