Induction of thoughts in the benthic
Pursuit of emancipation, notes scribbled
hid in a woven nest, misted with Arabian perfume.
Virile, the barometer of self satisfaction.
Dusted, I took out the fresh page of my torn book.

Pristine, bruised I smelt it, on turning further
Staggered a little, to espy the still anew faded white
pages of my adulthood. Unsure what to add, I grabbed my pen.
With the blue ink, I scribbled again. Yet another page,
Shaded, but afresh!
Off the brain of her/poet/poetic words drips a A precious piece off her mind falling off her heart into her soul the jewels of innovative meanings that make love to the other body caught up in the fires of desire fulfilling her womanhood.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Artistic!
LikeLike
right
LikeLiked by 1 person