Lips part as if to whisper a prayer
But no words escape it.
Your fingertips linger on the edge.
Of her body, like she is a nymph
You are craving on the wall of a temple.
You know every scar and mole in her body
Like it was a shrine to you.
Her youth is a blooming lotus.
In your garden of desire.
But why do you pause when they ask who she is?
Why do you inhale every time she asks
What you like about her?
Everything, you say, hoping to please her.
She smiles and brushes off the empty feeling.
that creeps in
As you cuddle in bed.
Every time you make love to her,
She knows it.
You know it.
There is no denying it.
You know her inch by inch.
In the darkness of the right
But in the light of dawn
Her soul is still a stranger.
©Suranya
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