The feverish passion inside her burnt
The oooh’s, the aaah’s
Of pain revealed
Nothing of consciousness remains
The terror inside her
Shows on her trembling hands
Trying to reach the steady shoulders
Yet, at the back of the perfect arc they retain
Shuddering low unsteady breaths
Eyes almost closed
Fatique has crossed its brink
Pearls waiting to crawl
Mess of hair pulled, relaxed
Mind, of certainty waxed.
To use her companion
As her temporary walking stick
Would lead to utter despair
Disloyalty of intentions
Which are liberation
Not the honey dipped romance
Was it fair?
Wheels turning
Are stopped by a speed breaker
Head crashes with steady surface it smashes
Cocooned in something soft
Eyes shut tight
Body stiff as rock
The knot of arc made unfastened
It wasn’t red but blue made lose
Trip upstairs made downstairs
Furnished suface with care re-polished
Hinges it had, half abolished
Until her hand became the wall
For having guilt as a guest
Her world was small.
This is something beyond beautiful ❤️❤️❤️
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Thank you love ❤️❤️❤️
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