;

Ever wondered what happened to the atoms of the lustful breaths⠀ that you exhaled deep into⠀ the perpetual hollows of my collarbones ⠀ every time we made love?⠀ were their destinies trapped in the⠀ labyrinths of my raw existence forever ?⠀ mazes stained by your sweat drops,⠀ nerves left frozen by ⠀ your touch,⠀ that’s what my body would become after on.⠀ and the atoms of your breaths entwined⠀ would travel as far as to the forbidden realms⠀ telling tales of our amore.⠀ they would float across the cosmos⠀ as unfaced deities singing sonnets⠀ that echoed our moans.⠀

ten years from now we'd be in strange places but on rainy afternoons  I'd reminisce of you. a little pile of memories in a dusty corner of my brain would rise into dry vaccums like fireflies,like stardust, like the way you laugh silent. I'd paint you in colours, teal and white you love, the weird way you walk and your melon shaped head and the infinite little things about you. you held me when nobody did like my balcony holds the amber bougainville from falling into voids, your face would sprout  in all the corners of my  shrivelled heart until there's no space any more until i stop yearning for it. You dissenter whom I love to learn tiny little things about, don't ever let go of me for I'd never let go of you.

love laments in his oceanic eyes; poisoned waves gust, white gulls float, an old lighthouse stands amputated. the sea water simmers in  soot black, tangerine starfish crawl on the shores. lone spiralled stairs to infinite aches I climbed. and on deserted lands  with no musk I lived. I'm suffocating. he wouldn't let me surrender. he wouldn't let me run. there's no resurrection. there's no forgetting. Maybe on cold winter nights, he'll let me be his Lolita; he'll let me die neither loved nor unloved.

ephemeral dreams and clouded vision, on existentially drained nights death stands by my bedside as bewitching as a white jasmine. I'm cynical and exhausted I walk through narrow lanes where I forget to breathe. there's heavings of ghosts, pitch black skies, dead bodies overt. its ice cold I'm stumbling- I'm falling- there are broken mirrors and half bloomed roses ; frozen,they stench somehow. I'm on the ground I can't rise there's no light torn pages of my diary lay scattered around me. little pieces of glass stab into my heart, and there's a loud cry. agony echoes but it's not mine. it's my words'; letters and colons brimming over a lunatic's poems. I am only their grave.

Cold traces on bare skin ardent and raw like rain falling upon bleak cities. Tormented and desolate  bodies united  on dewy emerald  pasture seas. Like the moonlight  making love to scarlet-haired roses over the boughs  of snowy elms tides of carnal hunger drift onto sandy moors of liquid flesh  as thrushes sing melodic ballads and azure pearls ring bells in the Arcady.