It all starts in the head, some pull the strings of heart
Love, wrath, joy, hurt, bliss, pain…
I’ll stop counting, it’s no gain
Hoping hard to retain her mind, in vain
Liquid accumulates, blood flushes,
White turns soft pink,
She battles a hard war to stop it,
Bloody battle, she loses,
Pink turns red, still she refuses,
Sucks a flavored gust, digs her palms,
Explores named balms; sooth her ache
She can’t allow, but she can’t help
It’s up to brim now
Oceanic haze, mists her gaze
Chills her being, thwacks her control
Remaining of her third lids glisten, now wet
She struggles and flutters till both her lashes are soaked,
A pearl of beauty is born,
In the womb of haw,
Flaunting gracefully it rolls,
Rubbing and bouncing on the fleshy curves of dimple’s home
Reaches the corners and she tastes brine
Ah! It sates her dry mouth, blends with bittersweet memories,
But she doesn’t judge the taste,
Sluggishly, slovenly it reaches her chin,
Pendents like a stalactite,
Contemplating its destiny,
Drops over her clavicle,
She gasps, she gulps,
It trickles hesitantly in the hospitable hollow,
Deepened by affection,
Reaches the neckline and saturates her cloth
Fizzles out and evaporates,
With a serene sigh!