Monday, August 13, 2018

Pramila Khadun writes

The kiss

A poet worth his mettle
Boiling water in his cute kettle
Told me that kisses will eternally
Remain unsurpassed in beauty.

He kissed me and I was seventeen.
It was my first taste of love’s elixir,
A perfect osmosis without cosmetics,
With charms invariable
And desires unforgettable.
Ethereal and surreal,
It was the zenith of a wish
That left me spellbound
While the thunderstorm obliterated the town.

The kiss had the taste of nectar unblemished,
Making my interior self with light replenished.
Again he kissed me and this time
It had the peachy taste of sweet peach Melba.
Voluntarily or involuntarily absolutely sobered,
It invoked the vision of love making
While lightning flashed across the window panes
Taking us both in its strides.

In reverie and camaraderie
I asked the poet, ‘Is it the beginning of a lifetime love?’
In a hushed whisper , he replied,
‘The lifetime love is in the now.’
I smiled while the rain drizzled
And the scent of geranium and oregano
Rose joyously in the air.

The sun shone through rain
Making a radiant rainbow
And love shone in between our lips
With exuberant ecstasy
While the unbridled passions
Slowly empowered our frail bodies.
 
The Kiss -- Man Ray

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