A poem sleeps in my body

In an upright state,

And you come into me.

 

In the broadway of my heart

I think about you in the heavy traffic

I lay bare my desire.

 

I search your body

A vowel, a consonant, a simile.

To find a single- syllable-title.

 

I breathe only in your mouth

With the words I have in my mind

To compose a poem.

 

I whisper into your ears

To hear the echoes of the words

To feel the sound effect.

 

With overflowing ideas in my head

I touch your curved lips

To get my poem mould.

 

Deep in the vault of your mouth

I feel my poem & hear it

In the firmament of my heaven.

~Dr. Ram Mehta~