….. . ‘dots’ of our continuum

Standard

not any hardline conqueror with hidden intentions
you, my subatomically infiltrative stranger
neither just an acquaintance nor a face of  animosity
towards me at any (un)known instance

its me its all only me… this brutal being in a long
spell of comatose awestrickenness
it’s a mortal bundle of neurons, tendons..and heartons
in deep-sweet intricate-aching lovestricken symphonies

it’s a reversing dead plasmic sea rejuvenating in your interface
to brackish flows, further pure towards your cleansing springs
I now cannot be any longer inanimate hurting newness in offering
need to break torments of latent ice with an avalanche

The temples I pray show  visions of your presence
in the empty darkness of the sanctum sanctorum
Dreams come in handweave of our intertwining threads
with such light and smoothness textures of nakedness

Lush forests are lesser dense than our inseparableness
woods echoing with childish and censorable plays
Lap in lullabies where I sleep and wake up throws me
in wantable teasers in the gushing shallow streams

Drink unto ourselves each other’s nectarine flows
drying bitterly brittle to the envy of vaporous redsun
Soaking yet again in our honeycomb pools, swell
more radiant with glassy wings in rainbow veins

Albeit ephemeral, flying high in total superimposition
to merge with the beyondness, the seeming horizon
Death is a dot, a point in our journey, when we stride
back in a magical leap to the next dot and more

Becomes an indefinable continuum to  those limiting math
mindgreys,  when cosmic hyperstatistics unfurl

 

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