Transgression

[Dry_Snail]

Let me see those mysterious butterflies,
fluttering the ephemeral wings ...
almost merging the two fluorescent entities...

you know what…
they remind me those sweaty afternoons
when you explained me the phrasal verb “Beast with two backs”…
Shakespeare was your darling …
rather Othello …
or Iago …?
How could you cram my being with your smells I still wonder…?

The brutal despotism of flesh
were to reach the culmination
when I realized that I cant turn back
and I had no choice but to stand at the tip of the cliff
waiting for that gentle push …

I am sorry but I was bound to get insecure
and so the words …
insecure and lame words could never simulate the Eros,
though I venture to resurrect those crumpled,
shredded leaves on the tomb of deceased memories.

There must be a chink somewhere …
through which you can return to the place where you came from...
is it a regret to be compelled to take birth …
or is it a quest of something sublime …
consummate evaporation is what I can smell all around me …
lets call it Transgression …..!!!!.