Get Your Premium Membership

A Night's Call

it is five a.m and his voice is a hymn i composed to honour my body. his history is now mine, and I have sewn myself to his favourite memory. his baritone is cinnamon flavoured - the words, crushed blueberries he has plucked out of the garden of his skin and from which I will make the most insatiable type of wine. the smoke billowing from his mouth is my scent - the ittar I adorn my name with, and this phone is the bridge between our beds - the miles that separate our worlds, he asks me if I know how long it takes to fall in love. Just long enough for him to say hello.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 5/29/2019 3:54:00 AM
I like your poem keep it up Thank you
Login to Reply
Date: 4/10/2019 6:54:00 PM
Nice poem, Simran:-) Welcome to Poetry Soup!
Login to Reply
Date: 4/8/2019 10:27:00 PM
Quite lovely Simran.
Login to Reply
Date: 3/25/2019 1:22:00 AM
it's a call of love!// beautiful expression
Login to Reply