Cross Your Time Zone

Ten times each hour...
Each call for ten minutes...
You said:
"Where from will I get hundred minutes...
per hour? Your time range is
beyond my cosmic frame;
My network cannot reach your nexus".

Come now, I am waiting for you...
The mehendi in my hands has not faded,
the peacocks on my cheeks still dance,
waiting for the June showers.
My full breasts, which you call
Golden mounds, are lacquered,
like Juno's Swans swimming
in the milky sea of love.
My roseate lips
are of the selfsame sheen.
My Laxmi feet washed clean
with turmeric and honey;
Are decorated with lac-dye
and sliver dust which
this marble floor lusts to clasp.
And, my sun-kisses eyes
in this milky moon night,
are dreamy and somnolent
for your soft murmurs of love.

Come; I have waited for centuries...
Now I am tired of time,
Your minutes and hours
are beginning to choke me.

Do you want DEATH to win over TIME???

Copyright © 2017 by Oliva Rath. All rights reserved. This material cannot be copied and reproduced in any form without permission.