yuktibhatiaaaHi, I really liked your way of writing and would love to have u as the co-author of my upcoming anthology 'The Broken wings'. If interested do connect with me at @yuktibhatiaaa on insta. You will charged a minimal amount for it.
She craves to be somebody's poem But how can she? She doesn't have the sort of eyes where you can get lost and forget your miserable existence. She might not be the woman with a dawn of light where all the darkness disappear, rather she'll put you through hell. Her mystic essence might not be orchestral to your ears or divine to your spirit . She can love you terribly and not say a single word, Looking at those pair of black pearl , you might wonder if she is dancing in her daydream or carrying the weight of the world . She's not the type of person who will inspire you to write , rather manipulate your demon to take out the bottle of whiskey , howl in agony and cry at night.
You won't find her in crowd , You won't find her down the old Street She's a loner, choking on her own breath .
And if you still dare to get voluntarily destroyed Search for her aimlessly in the woods, She'll be standing in between the depth of darkness and her gloomy mood. Her influence might grow moss of desire from your skin , bones turn to stone and roots from veins. She'll not ask " who are you? Where you from?" But passionately let her starved demon feed on your tender skin._____ Moupiya Ghosh.
I don't know if this poetry means anything or not I just had to hold the pen to jot down my thoughts with ink ...
Pablo neruda- And all her face was honey to my mouth, And all her body pasture to mine eyes; The long lithe arms and hotter hands than fire, The quivering flanks, hair smelling of the south, The bright light feet, the splendid supple thighs And glittering eyelids of my soul’s desire. Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine — tender, delicate your lovemaking… the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth — your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting years for you in my rose-wet cave — whatever happens, this man will always be erected for you
Now that we are miles apart, I am turning out to be insecured without you. Now that we are not together to hug and solve our fights, days without talking to you seems so long, the sun would be tired of shining. The long for your distinctive touch, one that gives me goosebumps even though it's the 999th time our bodies met, can only be the one to give me back my peace of mind. Your hands are the only ones who can slow down my fast beating heart and restless mind. How I miss the ecstasy of your touch! How I miss your comforting lap! How I miss your shoulders to lean on! It's like, we both are in different worlds, divided by distance and time so much, it would take years for us to meet or perhaps never. It's good to have mobiles to video chat and all but how would they understand that what soothes me is your nudges and scent but those are the things which are leaving me to crave alone and alone and alone. How would they understand that in this time of great confusion and sufferings, you are my solace... How would they understand that in this time of social distancing, all I want is to breathe your breath and be so close to you, I can feel your soul... -Saya
Agility of a deer, with an infectious grace Guiding dance of beauty, with a light to trace Long and Slender legs, depicting a tale of its kind Scrawny fingers and toes, poising the aroma behind
Splendid stage of art, with a pinch of sensuality Burning with a desire of utter passion and vitality Enlightening the stars with a glimmer of innocence Moments of perfection, with strong ballet's essence