Sunday Poem By Rejuan Sardar

Quenching

Thy warm exhale on my face,
Two hearts too close to listen
To one another’s inner voice.
A transparent scarf of air
Between our two undraped dermis
Of touching my heart,
By thy amorous pounding breast;
Too close to subdue thy yearn
Of losing myself,
In thy melodious love-making.

Oh Lord!
Hold times and let the night not pass,
And let me break the silence of it,
With thy moaning on my lap;
Quenching thirsts of ourselves,
Of sheer love making.

Stop me not with thy quivering hands,
Let us burn in the fire of yearning;
Of admiring thy beauty on earth,
I’m the oldest day,
And you’re the newest morning,
Scintillating thy charm to please,
And having me with thee
As Adam and Eve in the Eden.