Samsara In the 5th
"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)
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2020
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