|
Has not been that
enough,
Flames have been over
there,
Sharpening the embers
Of memory,
After they have
discharged her of her images
And wagered there
wouldn’t be any love after they die down
No longing
But for the lust of
theirs
While astir
Within the life of the
body.
She supplants wind
By the effeteness of
signal,
Which spares half the
fate of hers for her,
Melted by a smile.
He is garbed in green,
He is dressing the
body of the forthcoming. |
That’s the body of
mine,
A lust thinning away
into the mirrors of fire
And that’s the soul of
mine,
Breaking up into fire
corners.
She gets ashen,
She makes bed out of
the daisy night
A handicraft betwixt
which get intertwined both
The embers of an
infatuation
And the desire of
fires
Lust opens out
Into her I get,
I stick to her side
The wind is buffeting
The pulses of a heart
that
Has lost his course,
The loud laughter of
two children,
Put to their own bed,
The images of Jalwa
Which memory brings
out
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