(A poem by Sabiha Ansary)
Mounted on his white steed, brandishing its canter,
He comes to woo me, with his childish banter.
He is my perfect piece of poetry.His lips, the perfect prose.
I hold his hand, like it’s the last thing i am ever gonna do.
I speak those words that have ever made any sense.
His voice, always kept on a loop. Its words rounded within me,
Like his tongue entwined with mine.
On Desire, on Demand, on Fire, Out of sheer Passion.
It’s a ritual, with the connection so spiritual.
Into the other worlds, i travel with him.
Crossing the shackles of dimensions and galaxies.