Sunday, November 4, 2007


Lemonade expanse
Slim, modern. Fresh!!
Hands quivering under the weight of the tangy wrap
Fingers press the buttons that are the color of the sky
White not blue
Rococo curls rest and listen to the mesmerizing voice of
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
The tummy rests too, after being subject to the endless jokes about it holding a baby.
A white flower peeps from behind her shoulder.
A similar one rests on the other bed with its face away, referring to the unexciting company
Jugalbandi of the feet
Strange! Looks dead to the world!
YES YES YES. No disturbance
Figure performs a Baroque on the pink bed
Marylyn’s eye winks from the left breast
Lips are potted in perfection, ready to be glossed
Few words of consent take a trip
Neoclassic folds
White folds of the Greek sculptures.
The candle, the doll, the bottle, the fan, the leaves; in tough competition
Kingdom of The Sleeping Beauty
The thumb rests in the middle of the index finger.
All fingers stare and glance away
Gaze conscious
The hands shape a V ready to spell some name
Stringy innumerable lines of the forehead invite attention
Cavity in the sour bed sheet is seen
The cavity leads to the corner of the bed. The wall is white with one little dent
Butool’s masterpiece has left 10 marks of it’s descend
Wait to fetch sympathy and the memories
Tête-à-tête of the pink laced white and the dark, handsome shadow of the vast green minus blue
Love is happening
Perky, dizzy, thoughtless, idle
Love nevertheless, with unkempt eyebrows and dark elbows
Slumber of the tiny mole beneath the gloom of the frail lashes
Deceit with the lemonade bed sheet
Affair with the ebony under it

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