I shut the dark doors of my dormant past, firmly yet your illuminated memories walk in through the ventilated windows of my heart!
Do you remember those erotic love poems I wrote, with the quill of my heart and ink of perfumed hues, dipped in the pot of rainbow bouquets, entwined in your turquoise thoughts from the emerald forests of my lush life when you were just eighteen, and ardent, adorable, desirable!
My lips ached to kiss your burgundy lips and your small red mouth. Your fragrant female contours stirred a storm of red-hot blood rushing in my indigo veins, and when you clung to me like a floral festoon - our erotic embraces tormented us to pillage the physical pleasures!
How the raging bull trapped in my body's bull-ring raced to pierce his horny horn in your pounding matador heart. Sparks of sensuality leapt to fiery flames. The heat in our hearts melted the ice and we both merged as one on that warm winter night. Flushed by my wet long kisses, your damp lips whispered parables of pleasure, Panting, moaning, trembling with ecstasy, your sweat-drenched skin sang sweet sonnets of satisfaction.
On life's crossroads, we have lost our ways and each other, too! Except memories, nothing has remained, not even epitaphs of the graves of our soulful shadows. So, I have slammed the dreadful doors again to lock myself in the penumbral prison of life!
