She..

I met her by chance..

That night I saw the stars leave the sky ..departing...as her laugh tinkled...sparkling across the cosmos..
and..
I froze in my words..
She painted a window across the shadow that day.. With colour boards and mood boards splashing her warmth across the walls sketching me a festal delight.. I wished that time to see her.. maybe to unforget an unfinished letter I wrote once.. maybe to reminisce the path tread when I spoke to her on my way back from Santacruz station.. maybe to adore the soul inside her..
A timeless sunshine descending into people's hearts..
The mauve zephyr along the eastern coast..

Tempara..

An old mountain
calls out..
to
the Mural
sparkling
like
a ghastly skull
which
tendered
it's breast

An old moon
gazes
at..
the contemptuous sky
resembling
an incomplete
sonnet..
longing
to be unfurled..


The Oldest
worms
squirmed
her fresco..
Her eyes
their imaginings
of
a pasture
golden..
with
glee..

Fervent Afterglow..

The smile stricken air..
stained
his poetry
on her nimble lips..
And..
he tasted elixir..
breathing
her inside of him..
She fell
across
the crimson meadow..
turning it
a plush virgin green..

His touch formed
ripples..
feeling..
Soft trembles..
Moanful laughs..
His bite
frozen
on her moles..
he smudged
the kohl
in her eyes..
as his tears
became her wine..

Eyes
rustled against
her softness..
as..
his
raven shadow..
succumbed..
to
nocturnal witchcraft..
stroking
her heart..
with
a wild acacia..
where
the moon set..
upon
the petals..
quenching
it's thirst..
with
sweet passion nectar..

Illusion of a Cinnamon Girl..

Bewailing..
her innocence..
The werewolves..
moaned
their brittle octave..
Erratic in despair..

Burgundy waters..
licked
the dinghy
catacombs..
The illusion of her
reeling..
In a whirl..


A pathos
fragrant..
With the minstrels words..
Worn toes
blinking
At her grave..
as
He wavered..
weaving
A song..
from
the frozen letters
on her lips..