She used to make love
like quite a different woman
and the night air was always cool and fragrant
the moment we started
teasing one another.
She knew the names of
all those heady flowers,
and she called our Qutb names
like a defeated, weak kneed warrior!
We never used to chat
during our lovemaking,
only she did moan
and I darkly mumbled between our skins,
lying ever so, under the naked, awesome skies
and all the broken,
bearded gods were like
grey men twitching and wasting
themselves in envy,
helplessly staring as we lost our celibacy
for ever
and for ever.
The breeze caressed us, sprawled out
as we were spent like money
in our recklessly groomed lovemaking.
She was like a woman in love
in all her bites and swollen lips
that are still bloody and
lovely in my forever dreams.