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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "Samsara in the 5th" The phenomenal world is illusory, it calls for nothing of substance romance is laid out legs and hearts spread open like a catalogue touched through the remittance of words clicking like manolo blahniks across a warm keyboard cool slender fingers become long legs that wrap around a mind the other side of purgatory playing sensuously like a tom cat purring around the sultry pipes of milky cream coloured skin wanting a velvet tongue to lick the knife that bleeds life and sweet seductions in this case, one could counter arms across the kitchen table red circling her hieroglyphs, the dream catcher, errors wanton and brave not for erasing the musky sweetness of a fantasy fabricated and kissed with the silence of tongues licking fingers and flicking pages nonchalantly through the glossy artifice of celluloid dreams under covers, the satin pink shining, for it has a mind of its own and it knows what it is and the needs hungry and wanting, it opens fire, AK47 no less at a barreled chest pushed in an envelope across a world that’s now welcoming and sorely missed as if it all can be deciphered, this mystery decoded at long distance, repeats the invitation to a tryst ebony ribbons of hair around strict rulers two bucking kismet slipping halos under the hot delta waves her sea parts tumultuous calling in passion heads are held fast between palms being read in a riot of emotion a slow tempest grows into a searing moist melting monsoon and both tornadoes crowned are caught, in his dream he locks his guns around a waist let loose the story comes undone bent over fast and hard jaded eyes that scream green jets holding holy communion and power over storm clouds the metaphoric blue meteors reign over her pinning her smile with a deep exploratory rainy day virtual kiss; She met her lover in the deserted silence of the Upanishads There she found him holding a throbbing soliloquy and hiding happenstance smiling at serendipty in his truth, the naked soul uncovered, now the treasure of what it truly is seeking solace through the fire approaching the Winter solstice event the compass twirls like a whirling dervish, it doesn't stop, it has slipped within the in-between like some strange equinox sliding over shadows in a Dali Dream They met in the Bardo where they shed their skins their souls made love in the silent time between the blankets of Alpha and Theta she came awake through him, closing doors to that place best left behind in a forgotten time Samsara in the 5th (LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
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