Needles and pins aren't quite my thing-
No, I don't need to flaunt your name on my skin.
No loud declarations of the immortality of love,
no telling when this spectacle ends in a drift.
Yes, you're etched on my tongue,
each nerve, every sinew-
throbs to your call,
my senses, every night, to your name they sing-
melodies of rapture,
a walk through the dark, doomed vales of desire,
drenched in the showers of pine scented mists.
Bodies speak unspeakable words
they drown, they float, they surge,
A language I cannot utter
a vocabulary I've never heard.
As the shore runs into the arms of the sea
and my skin hears tales of fantasy.
You, the god who answers my prayers-
I shall go to you on bended knee.
Till you evoke in me, desire
and my lust, in your heart, does spring
We can keep up this game -
call it love, or whatever you will.
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