spring of lust

Evening Storm on Market St. by Jeremy Mann

and i am tracing the spaces
your lips covered/caricatured
on my sunshine skin —

my lips blooming&bursting
this spring of lust, bereft of stars,
while i look for my own loss
in the dark.

the roads are endless in this city
of loss,
but my beginning is its own end.

where do i go to seek the poetry
of things? how can i ever
make this night last?

.
© Anmol Arora

Day 4
(Inter)National Poetry Month