Her New Abode by Romi Jain
Her fair face looms brightly on the
Beneath the rose petal-shaped mentum
White boats sail in the purple water.
Her almond eyes meet mine and shine;
The supple lips—an inverted rainbow—
Pulsate in elation as my kiss approaches
Gliding along air-currents amorous
To redden the orifice with love, to wet
With steamy dews the sleek philtrum.
Not watered since her departure, seeds
Have sprouted, formed into saplings,
Borne fruits--evidently her miracle!
The imprint of her puerility I find on the
Wind that tickles me at night, tugs at
The quilt, making me sneeze and shiver;
At dawn, she walks along golden rays,
Pierces my heart, infusing it with
Her abode is in nature
On whose swing, she mirthfully swings;
Whose theatrical stage her whirling legs beat;
In whose divinity she has mingled, drinking in
Seraphic beauty, reveling in escapades….
I foolishly wept at her grave.