the vast expanse of
gold fragrance
in the mustard fields
murk the lust skin deep.
Wisps of winged cloud
start soaping
the soft fair nude skin
of the lady mountain
surge a fire of urge
in the nuptial bed
spread over tons and tons
of mustard flowers.
the vast expanse of
gold fragrance
in the mustard fields
murk the lust skin deep.
Wisps of winged cloud
start soaping
the soft fair nude skin
of the lady mountain
surge a fire of urge
in the nuptial bed
spread over tons and tons
of mustard flowers.
Warm embraces of mum awaits.
Fingers never touch their tips.
a dream come true.Prior to its conceptionthe poet feels likesomeone or somethingis withina limbless entitya touchless kiss,a lust free urgetouching you,kissing you,hugging you,embracing you,fingering atall the strings of the heartlaceratingall the veils of desireslickingall the tenderness withingaggingall the chaosinside the locked corridor.of the soul.And here starts the nausea..The first vomits initiatedSign of impregnationAnd the idea…
ସବୁତକ ଲୁହ,ଯେତେ ଯେତେଦୂରତା ର ନୀଳ ନଈ ପାଣି ।।ଅୟୁତ ନିଦାଘ ତୃଷ୍ନାଅତୀତରମୋହ ମହ ମହଲାଗୁଥିଲାସତେ ଅବା ସପନ ଦେଖୁଚି!ଆମେ ଯେଉଁ ପାହାଡ଼ ବୁକୁରେ,କଣ୍ଟକିତ ଗଡାଣି ରାସ୍ତାରେ,ବାରଂବାର ମାଟି ଛୁଉଁଥିଲେ…..ସେଇ ଘାସ ଗାଲିଚାରେସତେ ଅବା ତୁମରି କୋଳରେମଥା ରଖି ଘୁମେଇ ପଡୁଛି…..ଯେମିତିକା ତୁମ ମହ ମହବାସ୍ନାରେ ବିଭୋରମନ ମୋର ସପନ ଦେଖୁଛି।।ମୋ ମଥାର ଶୀତଳ କେଶରେପହଁରୁଚି ତମ ଟିକି, ଉଷୁମ ଅଂଗୁଳି….ଧୀରେଧୀରେ ସଞ୍ଚରି ଯାଉଛିଅଦିନିଆ କଳା ମେଘ-ମୋ ପ୍ରଣୟ ଆକାଶଆଷାଢୀ ଛାତିରେ ।।।
In the first week of her puberty.
Sing with itLike a tiny kidThrilling.