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One cut,
Two cuts,
Three cuts, four,
You aren't needed anymore,
Five cuts,
Six cuts, seven,
It's time for you to go to heaven,
Eight cuts,
Nine cuts,
Ten cuts, more,
It's time for you to soar,
Fly away you demon,
You won't suffer anymore.

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Who am I?

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The intermission
between moments
of boredom
when being
forces oneself
to examine
each fleeting second
beneath the microscope
of existential time

What is this?

Why am I me
Rather than you?

Where am I going?

While the angst
pushes against
my soul
and all reality
turns toxic
with lungs plunged
into the void
of infinity

Please...

Give me oxygen

Oxygen...

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M F T B

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Sweet, succulent and so tender,
give me a taste, lead me there,
I own it already, lift your chin and close your eyes...

It's not for me as much as it's for you,
satisfying your dalliance for my searing breath,
unspoken words, slightest of moans,
all without sound yet you know exactly what was said...

The climatic touch of lips to skin,
tongue poking out ever so slightly,
skin tensing, pressing harder, my lips separate then close together once again...

Tasting you....

Your breath quickly exhausts from your mouth as I feel you melt and draw close to me,
fingertips on fire, pupils dilated,
excitement builds from within,
every single hair is electric...

Bondage released, only to be bound again,
with love, with patience,
with desire...

Tasting you...

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Swirl your famished hunger ever so gently,
interweaving the tip of your eager tongue,
up my inner thigh,
to the waiting parcel of my sacred rose.

Palming the cushions of my butts.
Inhaling the scent of my essence.
Drawing me closer unto the depth of feast with care.

Siphoning my juices with each lick.
The tongue anchoring deeper and deeper,
snaking inside my eternity,
cleansing the lust of my soul,
over and over again.

Moans of shaken passion
Remnants of tasting me.

-Carnalverse

-

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Bury me
beneath the world
and I will live to see
beauty again,
round and round,
its all circles.

No ashes no dust
just bones

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भीगी ज़ुल्फ़ से वो भीगा एहसास है
गर्दन को चूमते हुए तेरी पीठ पे बिखरा है
भिगो के तेरे अँग और लिबास को,
मेरे ही ईमान में शरारत को घोला है |


हटा दूँ लिबास या चूम लूँ उस बूँद को
या चूम कर तुम्हे, जला दूँ उस बूँद को
बगावत की राह पे वो क़ाफ़िर,
बड़ी बेशर्मी से तेरी कमर की ओर पिघला है |


अपनी हरकतों को आज तुम ठहर जाने दो
इस नशेमन को आज, वहीँ सवँर जाने दो
करीब आकर गुनाहों के बहाने,
उस कतरे में आज मैंने रुमानियत को घोला है |

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