Frankly, my dear

In every season
My sensuality flips sides (of so many)
Forming
Another
Layer.
Lilting
In
Nuances.
Grinding
Interminably
Nearer towards a ringing realization
Louder than ego, against my “will” like
Om.
Voraciously, oh how I grin
Etching your image in phrases
Wearing your smell in graces
Inevitable.
Tough, I realize, to accept
Her allegiance, openness, will to try &
Yet.
Om.
Undeniably auspicious, harmonious along the subjective edge of miracle.

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One Response to Frankly, my dear

  1. Gamal Sherif says:

    I’ve considered sensuality like the keys on a piano, black and white and then so many more single notes and chords.

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