The tongue is heartless servant, it slithers on your neck and lips, like a snake devoid of warm flesh, I feel the warmth and the tremble in cleavage, but I am cursed as in Eden.

It smothers the bra slowly, peeking within with satanic eyes, the warmth is a thirst for a thing made of out flesh, it multiples while inside, caressing, pressing, Disappearing with eyes,
Your breath is a kiss of blaze burning and I was a winter worth nurturing with hands choking my existence

The breasts caressed slowly, into a tumultuous moment of touch, I trace the tips to its origin, feeling them erect and ready for to pleased, unhook now and lie down, let me taste the eden before being banished forever.

A Fixation

An orange bliss breaks billowing :
the blue evening, passing out,
choked by warm hands colored in flames.

Witness the sky
tying this blue brightness consensually,
behind it’s cloud back.
Sea dipped fingers feeling the warmth closing in,
as flames tease the air around, with uneven breaths.
Maybe this is how, It rains in winter.

a little skewness, such as this,
shames the clear ponds
and the monuments still glistening
with untouched marble
bearing the tasteful reflection.

But I sit aghast,
and perplexed over such a fixation.
The nights shall be a little difficult :
dreaming of soft ropes,
of slowly kissing the haunting eyes.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

A Winter with no Light

White : a color of absence
a touch of nothingness,
swallows a village overnight.
The remains are prayers
and candle lights.

Preserve your warmth,
learn your exits where your body learns to regret.
A temple of belief, desolated tonight.
A sky sucked out of light, kiss of fire stolen tonight.

Seek my lips
Numb my pain with the whitest touch.
Close my eyes and listen to my hymns.
Give it a form : turn it into a music, a Carol.
My heart bleeds again and again.
Turn it into poetry tonight.
Make a tongue a poet tonight.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

A low voice and a blanket of memories

The stars become cold,
It rained last night.
The shiver kills every beauty:
Stay, do not move,
do not use your hair.
You are a symmetry now,
I am a blindfolded architect,
Let me trace your heart tonight.

My blanket has dreamed more than me,
It sees an ocean of blue at times,
to drown itself, at least once:
Warm bodies are always vulnerable,
They leave you at the sign of cold.
Or when the inhabitants are warm enough.
All relationships are paradoxical,
Just fail once, you will learn.

The skies cry for the seas.
The waves tremble to mate the sky.
The horizon is a red illusion.
We shall meet and not meet.
We shall dream and not.

Tell me, label us once as something?
or not?

Because once you label us,
we will disappear,
into things we can’t control.
Free fall into me.

You won’t regret it.



Unfurl, unsettle.
The air around disappears sometime in the morning light.
Your eyes, beacon for a calming storm:
Baptised my name for yourself tonight.

Before the gods, the heaven,
The satanic laughter screams tonight.
Are you dream that i miss every day in brights.
Those pink lips, my sky tonight.

Unfurl, unsettle
My heart unrests
Come touch it once .
Atleast tonight.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

To remember a smile

It’s just a piece of skin
aching for a laughter
In a world that makes desolation
And calls it peace.

A thousand fireworks
look like lights without laughter
With your memories without laughter
My ears become a temple begging for a worship

Smile now,
For someone
For me.
Don’t let my temple disappear in a map of this world undiscovered.

Worship my eyes instead.
They smile without dreams.
Without reasons
Without fear.
Come tell me, do your eyes seek me
Am I your Christmas?

When the world desolates you away from me.

© Shashank Bhardwaj


Why don’t you just move your eyes.
To eclipse the shyness.
For I fear I will have to move your hair with my tips
My hands could trace the dark sparkle of your eyes.
Your lips but are unforgiving and unlearned,
they don’t tell me where to stop,
at the chin or at the soft flesh of neck?
I could sense the unnerving cleavage tremble
With this touch,
bosoms turning restless as a kid dissolved in nightmare
I feel a warmth brew in your breath
Does you have butterflies in your belly
When I do that?

The hands have a memory of their own,
They tresspass the neck, leaving warm flesh and bones for the tongue
To the unresting clevage that drowns in desire.
The soft breasts are sumptuously caressed,
Leaving an entire room for voices.
Feel the heartbeat through your lips,
Let the tongue convolve like spies on death sentence.
The waist turns into a carved flesh,
With black jeggins reflecting every curve within
Your could feel the hips firmed and soft with the black panties inside.
Roll down a feather and it will jump of the curves of hip.
Roll down a feather it will caress the breasts and land between the curves of the legs.

© Shashank Bhardwaj