It’s you who won’t let me
In
I tried knocking
I whispered too polite
“This isn’t a good idea”
And the crystal skyline
There…
Obscured
Tasseled screams
Surrounded by pale smoke
And glittered flesh
Blue Octaves
My inexperienced palm
Danced into you and I heard
You were
Grateful for strobe effects
A pink
scent of moist
exposure
“Breasts I caressed
Retractable”
My tongue draws Areolas
She drew back
words lost in silence
I knew
a dark
Corner.
A.R. Minhas 2016
