Spring Cleaning

It's quite a task

Sorting through the clutter

Of a lifetime;

Going through this rubble,

The treasures

Of a sentimental fool.

What is to be kept

What thrown,

Nothing in here

Is of use;

Stuffed here

As it is.

I have done without it

for so long.

And discard I must

All, but 

The very dearest;

I start from one end

Packing

With careful fondness

Bits of me

Doomed in the dump yards

Of this world;

Until all I'm left with is

Exhaustion, loss and pain.

And a room 

Clean and bare.

The way it had been made.

Only now

It is a room

I seem to know not. 

Demystified

I felt shy,

But it was shed

With the last pieces 

Of our clothing.

My body ached;

Excitement humming

From every single pore.

And then your mouth

Closed upon mine,

Your breath

Reminding me of

Charcoal and stale bread.

But the distraction 

Of your hands

On my breast

Helped in the

Getting used to.

Our tongues and fingers

Meshed, wandered,

Explored, wondered

And then you entered

Your stab, the pain 

Shattering my ecstasy

Though only momentarily.

Our breaths and sighs

All tangled again

And soon it was over.

We quickly dressed,

I brushed my hair

And we left.

Nothing had changed

Except perhaps

That once spotless

Bedspread. 

Loss of Innocence

It happened,

Happened

At that very moment

When I noticed

That you noticed me.

I was

But a chit of a girl;

Raging hormones

Making me susceptible to

Frequent bouts of love.

You came

You came to me!

And things happened

Maybe happened

A little too fast;

Not that I complain

Or blame you

In any way 

Whatsoever.

It's just that 

Things happened

And I hadn't

Seen them coming.

One moment

There we were

Looking gooey eyed

At each other;

Your urgent hands

Roving over

My budding breasts

At the next.

I am not 

Accusing you

at all.

I had wanted it then,

Maybe

With as much desire

As you had.

After all

My then diet

Of dreamy romances

Told me it was heaven.

It happened

At that moment

When you noticed me;

The moment

That you came.

It happened

At that moment

When you noticed me

But you failed 
to notice

You had left me behind.

Striptease

Eager eyes await

The star of the show.

She of course,

Will be fashionably late

Having aroused

Just the right anticipation.

The stage is set,

Whispers heard

Of the small talk ensuing

To cover up 

the obvious excitement

Exaggerated rumours

Of her naive beauty

Have brought about.

The spotlight's on

The collective sigh

Makes way,

Anticipatory silence following.

She steps in,

Seeming to fulfill

All that was promised,

Not an inch exposed;

Imagination

Driven to madness.

Her keepers give the cue

And off goes a layer

With planned precision;

The little that is seen

Shows perfection achieved

Through hours of concealing.

Slowly,

As the spectators sit

Barely breathing

Out of fear of exploding,

She exposes all.

Or so they think.

The lighting's such

all blemishes are concealed.

You'd think its cheating

But then again

This is what

They have come for:
A Diana
In all her naked glory
and in her virtues;
In the whore on sale:
A bride soon to be.

Just a Part-time Cynic

Of course I'm a romantic

Subscribing to

All the strictures of love;

Waiting for that epiphany

Where the world will stop

As we lay eyes on each other

for the first time.

There'll be sleepless nights,

Surely different from now,

When it will be for a sight

Of your flawless face

That my soul would pine.

It will be then

That I'd learn to live,

Find the meaning of my being;

These twenty years

Being but an excuse

Of an existence.

Of course I believe in love

And would like nothing else

But to lose myself 

(Whatever I have made of me)

In you.

But until then,

The glorious hour that is

When you've swept me

Off my feet,

Excuse me

I have other plans.

I intend to enjoy 

My half existence

Until it's time for love.

Frangipani Laced Memories

Bated breath.

Expectations that hurt.

An exquisite headiness,

Unexplained,

Undeserved.

Every inch of skin,

Aroused,

Excited

The teasing and caressing

Of the intoxicating Frangipani,

Only an unwitting accomplice

To the greater schemes

The ruthless and clever mechanisations

Fate has practiced to perfection.

The same inky sky,

That familiar serenade

Raindrops have sung before;

The treacherous wet earth

So seasoned in causing

feverish frenzies.

Nostalgia.

The slow poison

Of past memories

swirling in the veins.

The bittersweet longing

Of the once carelessly disposed

Drug of ecstasy.

The longing

The burning desire;

Nay, the uncontrollable need

to be in those arms,

Oh! this bane

This cruel call of insanity.

Impossible!

My dream it is unattainable

You walked away

Long ago.

I might as well return.

I am sure

I'll soon I get used to

his otherness.

Till then

I will just have to bear

The slush, the muck

The mess 

tonight's shower of fantasies

will leave behind.

Elegy on a Light Bulb

It flickered
Like the shy blinking
Practiced to perfection
By the seasoned coquette.
It has lived;
Its virtuosity
Illuminating
So many.
But no longer.
The darkness is alluring,
So deceptively soothing.
The time has come
For the heathen plunge
Into the forbidden pool
Rippling with ecstasy;
The time has come
To die.