A Relic

Just like this pillow on my bed ,
A pregnant face with a face , a solemn crest ,
Lay his polite reposing head ,
We sat , two in two, each others best .

Your hands were firm in link with mine ,
The tangy resin ,did mystify the band ,
Our spar eyes were in twisted lines ,
Yes , those eyes ,sunk deep in the concords of sand .

As the craft of these fingers were a flair,
We , like abandoned monuments lay,
All The Way , the same we shared ,
Nothing was said ,All The Way .

An advanced romance ,
Only the language of this soul understood ,
And sure, this was grown in the shrine of our mind ,
The conventions at a distance stood .


We spoke to tell what we cared ,
We See , we Saw -a bit un perplexed,
A single colour of red , the size of wine all bared,
Its scant ,its poor -it didn’t matter for it was an affair beget.

With one another so , animated our both souls,
So far, so fetched like a brook does flow ,
Body in me ,of which we grow ,
The mind are we , they are ours not seen.

So must souls convey ,
Yielding their sense in pure love descend,
Above each sigh ,I approved him not ,
To weaken each sense and turn to apprehend .


Why to our bodies do we lean ?
A cumbersome mark , in talks and insistent moans,
As the blood of our labour forgets ,
The lovemaking was just a book with pages torn .


And if that lover , did hear this conversation of us,
Let him see, that storm in me ,
Let him feel the small change ,
in my body when we’re two bodies are one .

*****