A breath of her hair
sends shivers down my spine,
with the aroma of her skin,
that melts into mine;
The perfume in her bosom,
makes my knees weak,
and her rose-petal sweat beads,
down my body they creep;
Her fragrant throbbing thighs,
make me go numb,
the incense in her moans,
to which I must succumb.

A bouquet that she is,
tucked away in the past,
withering in time,
into the abyss cast;
Her lurid rainbow aura,
redolent and sublime,
as her scent fades away,
so does our love decay;
And the path to her memories,
laid out with yellow shards of glass,
stained red with my blood;
Tucked away.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar