The night dissolved with us,
muted to the voiceless moans.
The clothes lay on the floor
as a tribute to the tempting aches,
given in to.
the first ray of dawn traces your neck
untouching your deep slumber.
My lips crave for a taste of flesh caressed with warm light.
the lips surge a tremor within you,
but you are a city used to earthquakes in moonlights.
I trace it from the neck to the breasts
notoriously ; with a hope of a early summer brewing in my heart somewhere.
© Shashank Bhardwaj