Love
I oft speak and hear thou name, murmured like a prayer from lips of forgotten
On the Ganges bank, one many sublime, on river beds of earthen slime
In the eyes of a moon shaped visage, the labour of assimilated devotion
In smiles as shimmering as the oceans, ambrosia laced concoctions
In fire's crackling wisps on a cold day, in a stranger's eyes along the way
Like a warm spring of hot water,
Even a miragy oasis,
A caffeine shot of joy, circadian osmosis
A glass of wine, transmogrifying vapour to incense
Frictionless inclines, winding labyrinthys.
I feel loved, as I am meant to.
Delusion cackles in the dark.
My fear and disappointment, ebb and flow
The after-taste of tartar.









