I shut the dark doors
of my dormant past, firmly
yet your illuminated memories walk in
through the ventilated windows of my heart!
Do you remember
those erotic love poems
I wrote, with the quill of my heart
and ink of perfumed hues,
dipped in the pot of rainbow bouquets,
entwined in your turquoise thoughts
from the emerald forests of my lush life
when you were just eighteen,
and ardent, adorable, desirable!
My lips ached
to kiss your burgundy lips
and your small red mouth.
Your fragrant female contours
stirred a storm of red-hot blood
rushing in my indigo veins,
and when you clung to me
like a floral festoon -
our erotic embraces tormented us
to pillage the physical pleasures!
How the raging bull trapped in my body's bull-ring
raced to pierce his horny horn
in your pounding matador heart.
Sparks of sensuality leapt to fiery flames.
The heat in our hearts melted the ice
and we both merged as one on that warm winter night.
Flushed by my wet long kisses,
your damp lips whispered parables of pleasure,
Panting, moaning, trembling with ecstasy,
your sweat-drenched skin
sang sweet sonnets of satisfaction.
On life's crossroads,
we have lost our ways and each other, too!
Except memories, nothing has remained,
not even epitaphs of the graves
of our soulful shadows.
So, I have slammed the dreadful doors
again to lock myself
in the penumbral prison of life!