pulling and pushing
into each other,
apart from each other,
the red becomes mellow, and
pink dreams arrive in a wave
of a desert storm,
i remember my home
through your tongue,
i remember my death
at your teeth’s artistry.
like a fly, i wait at the doorstep
before seeking to enter
at the exit.
.
© Anmol Arora
Read screwed and screwed (ii)
Image source (Reverie by Richard Taddei)
HA's Place 
“i remember my death
at your teeth’s artistry.” – gorgeous and so free, I absolutely adore this line.
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A lovely write!!
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Beautiful, Anmol.
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A passionate write!
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This is… intense. There is an undercurrent of some sort of battle of wills underneath the love-making.
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This is my second time reading this yumminess. And again, the third and fourth stanzas stick to inside of my skull (and whisper tales of forever). It’s the imagery–all tongue and teeth and relatability–refusing to anything but lasting. Love, love, love this one.
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“i remember my death at your teeth’s artistry,” … this is such a strong image! There are so many different emotions running through this poem.. perhaps it is because of who they are that we feel this way… their touch is energy that at the same time gives the feeling of home as well as alienation .. it’s complex and incredibly overwhelming .. arz kia hai 💜
“Ek tarz-e-tagaaful hai so woh unko mubarak,
Ek arz-e-tamanna hai so hum karte rahenge..”
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Thanks Anmol, for hosting. I like to see how the host handles the prompt. I like yours
The only way in now is that back door. Well, perhaps also by Devine Intervention.
..
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Love the intensity…
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We are having a heat wave in Oz at the moment. This poem should come with a health warning…To be read with lots of cold water.Any older folk reading this poem should ensure they have an ambulance at the ready.
Phew white hot and sizzling.My interpretation anyway, lol)
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I misunderstood the prompt, so I hsve been visiting sites loking for responses to Sound Of Blues, which is what I thought was the TOADS prompt. Oh well, this may not be about the blues – but it is smokin’ Anmol!
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Hey, Rob. Thanks for visiting! The Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads is an open-link day, in which you can link any one poem to the widget. There is a theme in the form of a poem or something else to inspire and provide that extra nudge to the poets to write; it’s entirely optional to follow it. 🙂
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Wow, Anmol, this is full of passion. I love the lines:
‘i remember my home
through your tongue,
i remember my death
at your teeth’s artistry’.
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i remember my home
through your tongue,
i remember my death
at your teeth’s artistry.
Oh, I love those lines!! This poem certainly comes with flushing. 🙂
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This is a very deep poem, Anmol. I am especially taken by the way you blend the tactile images to memory of death and home. An inspiring piece.
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