This Frame

By Parvathy SL

Moon

It's the moon

always,

Dips, Depressions

and canals

It leads me to the

warmest part of my skull

the burning part,

My body,

Scars, stretches and stitches,

slit it open, a billion times

As I weep with my wounds

found peace in

Inflicting pain to this frame.

It shines like the one in,

ursa Major

No, No, No

Sirius,

My body burns and then

settle in its grave,

With my weary soul.

The Mane on my left fist

stood up

As he slid his palm

through my hips.

Sideburns.

Tailed from my waves

Neck too slender,

Leads to parallel paths,

Sinks and swims

To my Clavicle.

Diverge to broader paths

Shoulder kisses like flowers.

Waterfalls from glenoid.

Black mane follows .

Then where my heart lives

This torso exploded

in attacks.

Fell cold to the soil

Always.

That little dead so numb

to the realisation that ,

They would depart

That stab when they left

For my eyes and for my heart

they are the same

Quite teary and cracked up

Too bloody weeping

Too bright for you

Left of my chest

Urges to steal your eyes.

Blind enough but prettier.

The fragrance I recollect,

Did not held to afterlife

still I have known you

These muzzles,as it sniffs

Bullets of you gets struck

Too long still a curves

Trying to touch

These lips.

Have despised it

Quite a lot

Bust too bothering

Glances and stares,

Where the devil,

tries to slay a inch of my skin.

Bosom distorted.

The path midway through,

voyages to a shallow,

Like a molecule .

Hesitant of these curves,

Love handles with no love often.

Jumped sideways.

Tummy bloats and pushed inside,

A guitar at times.

Haughty for these sturdy midriffs,

Appears like monsoon.

Waist that craves a dance

To twist and turns .

One palm away

Is an abys of delight

The tunnel down from eternal endings

Fragile but paints in Ruby Red

With shrieking aches

When unable to create

an infant.

Not a choice it seems.

Knocking down the walls

and ceilings.

None told to create.

Numbing the rest.

Epicentre of feminine glee

Escorting me to the celestial sphere

Or flying to there

Bewitched by sensuous rush

Soaked in Lust

Earth -shaking with Euphoria

Still not materialised.

Thighs too spacious

Lap carved to nap

Two long pillars

where I stand,

Gets leaner as it falls down

To its base,tracing my mother’s

This soul sets underneath

this frame ,

Gawking and claiming

It to be an object.

But no,

I dissent

Quite normal this flesh is,

Its the red that flows

like every other survival.

By Parvathy SL