The High Noon

No more the hazy sunrises.
This year the sun will burn,
Infatuate, distract and madden!
Soon it will be you and I
And the “sweet summer sweat.”
Hang, cling, or recline darling,
The noon’s high and wild and
Loud with silence.
Rise. Ravish. Revel.

I see it all in my mind’s eye:
The cool floors purling beneath our
Burning bodies,
The see-saw of entwined breaths
Truncated and punctuated and
Flushed with a joy so simple
That it renders sex an outside
Place in reality!
Sink. Settle. Surrender.

The Indian summer stings darling,
And the Indian bodies like inert logs
Of wood wait to be chiseled and cherished.
Dim, flattened and constrained in their
Compulsive confinements they curse
The sun, the heat, and the sweat and
Hopelessly wait for the showers to
Make some senseless love.
Dull. Distant. Dismal.

If only… if only they could give
Summer a chance; a chance to throb
Lives quick and warm.
Let the season develop and mature
And picture its stark quality
Like that of nudity. Therefore,
This summer come hither darling and
Let the sun expand our souls
Beyond the skins!
Live. Love. Leave.


Now Playing:: Ek hasina jab se mili..................Amit & Asha