Unearthly Arches


Her smile is perfection, with that moist gloss about her seductive teeth, cheeks that cave in with monastic bliss, and eyes that harbor trailblazing truths that leave in its flitting wake remnants of the empyrean splendor she alone can set afire with the crinkled operands of my spellbound senses.

Her sacred tongue, buried deep within the sweet alcoves of her piquantly plush, wet and delicious mouth, intoxicated by the fiery fumes of her lungs in exhalation, trapped in beatific suspension by the jejune subatomic essences of her exonerated physique, and laboriously spellbinding when described with articulate cadence, inched me mercilessly into a deranged state of unquenchable polydipsia.

Like syrup out of a copper chalice, I wanted her oral fluids upturned into mine, drinking, devouring and savoring her flavor with paroxysmal frenzy, embalming my innards with the virginal nectar that radiates within her the assent of a goddess in genteel hibernation.

To sculpt her body a second time, to tease into her luring anatomy of unparalleled enticement, from pore to smoldering pore, I realized, would be my unalloyed honour, and in her kisses, I knew would be found the reciprocated prestige of that nebulous enterprise we had initiated, and promised to follow through, with devout endearment.

When kiss her smiles is all I yearn to do, I traverse across the exotic wild, crouching under waxed canopies, over indomitable terrains of unyielding sludge, through alluvium plateaus that seek the imprints of my feet, and under skies that shower hail in flippant swirls of gushing tension, where try the wind does, to stop me in my tracks, to hold me in stasis, to inflame my guts to states of irreproachable torment, but the idea of her keeps my systems in order and moves my soul to sate its hunger at the shrine above her awaiting fortress of love.

Verily, I would then be allowed to softly kiss the corners of her mouth, and muzzle my way about to find the masterfully crafted curve of her twinkling grin, judiciously saving her lips for the prurient shades of twilight to come.

Of the strongest allure is she,
her body smell that maddens me,
with passion unfound and weakness unmetered;
of gasps wallowed and symphonies unsung;
of skin unscathed and warmth cajoled;
of nature defiled and chaos ordained.

Forward unto thee, higher up the podiums of rapture, and beyond dimensional stumbles; up the smooth spiral of my cosmic exuberance, I travel barefoot to embrace the raw spirits of germane romance, to worship forever her blest, unearthly arches.

Aravind Deepak
The Unconditional Maverick


About Aravind Deepak

Diligent dreamer. E-mail: aravinddeepak@hotmail.com

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