Of Spells and Dreams


Of Spells and Dreams


You cradle me between legs gently

on milky skin a contrast shade

of passion penned in winter schemes,

your pelvic heat radiating wants

with urges flowing in a cascade

of loose desires-

I give you words,

you give me dreams-

I give you love,

you give me words,

but words like chants

bewitch my dreams,

if with a spell I could persuade

under my wings

for you to stay…

Would you let go and just be mine

and not confine

yourself to dreams?


“She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells”

– Dean Koontz –


In Passing


In Passing


Do not fade

into the what could have been,

seeds wilted in the stagnation of a drought

after the passing storm, my skin

knowing your touch so well, without,

a deserted vastness of this empty space.

Do not forget

a soul feeds from attention

when hungrily seeking redemption

from sins of flesh, mea culpa,

in blindness seeking to say

how I needed you

delicately wrapped in lace

under sheets sustaining desires.

Do not go alone

into the unknowns of time,

when love so little requires

and a flicker of light

will burn bright

into the dark tomorrows.

Could you imagine me as yours?

I wonder how you see me inside

your guarded thoughts,

a touch you kindly hide

while in dreams alone

will always see you as mine-


“The things you let go will someday teach you how to fly.”

― Jenim Dibie






in the trillion cells across your body

you define and forge what I am,

in your thoughts, in your heart

like a ghost taking shape-

And how do I define you

my gone dreams butterfly,

spreading wings far

for you cannot be a cocoon again

once you learned to fly.

You are a voice, a gate

to all the wishes that men

quietly throw to the wind,

you are the words

I wished to scribbled within

to keep locked inside

warming my coldest winter-

You are mine,

alone I can hold you forever

in my skin, where you hide

to become but a dream,

only I can define-


“I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you.”

― Avijeet Das





I tried capturing the essence of who you are

your passion and your longing

trashing wildly in my loving hands

not enough to hold you, belonging

to another one that held you for so long-

And free you became in a wild flutter

of wishes waking up underneath

your hidden wants,

but life is so that when we find

where we belong,

where all the wishes underneath

the constant longing

will go to rest,

it is too late for time does pass

too fast to wait, too quick to hold,

that essence of who you are,

where I belong-


“I don’t even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere.”

― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

A Need


A Need


This need ingrained so deep inside

this flesh that strives, and it goes on

the burning desperation

for things when gone

will leave a sense,  a subtle agitation

of blood that rushes fast

through skin that lacks a touch,

and I can say this much

about a need

ingrained so deep inside

and strives… and strives-


“We hunger in earnest for that which we cannot consume.”

― Nenia Campbell, Black Beast

Wishful Star


Wishful Star


High above the clouds

you are my wishful star

where my wishes wait

like a winter seed

begging for your spring-

Could I wish for more

than the words you unravel

on my thirsty tongue?

For you I will travel

to that secret place

where gone wishes are

and would gather some

in your heart to pour

so I could wish for more

than a wishful star-


“Wishing, like sipping a glass of punch, or pulling aside a bearskin rug in order to access a hidden trapdoor in the floor, is merely a quiet way to spend one’s time before the candles are extinguished on one’s birthday cake.”

― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

Think of me


Think of me


Think of me for one moment late at night

when his hands under sheets find your wants

to relieve all the heat

and his lips find your skin

while you cry for his love and discrete

with my name briefly sin

for a moment,

if you do think of me-


“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray