unearthed trinkets of lust
taken by my lips —
bitten —
bitumen of the roads left
behind —
quick-quirky-beats rise quickly
like moon-quivering-tides.
drink one on me, through me,
as i
taste the memory of your
kitschy kiss,
hear a silver sun’s silence,
left undisturbed,
ululating — dying.
.
© Anmol Arora 2018
For dVerse Quadrille # 64
Image source (An interesting reproduction and interpretation of Klimt’s The Kiss)
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