Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

it was nice


It was nice fondling silken curls of your mesmerizing
hair,
it was nice drenching your persona in icy cool pints
of jungle water,
it was nice tickling your ear with serrated feather of
protuberant crested
pigeon,
it was nice painting your cheek with shades of
resplendent color,
it was nice hoisting you several floors above the
ground on my shoulder,
it was nice blowing puffs of tingling breath in your
crystalline eyes,
it was nice feeding your voluptuous mouth; with slices
of fresh pineapple,
it was nice embossing preambles of fathomless love in
your heart,
it was nice provoking you to pugnacious realms of
anger; witnessing your
acrimonious face,
it was nice guiding you past the congested
street; clasping your hands in
mine,
it was nice slapping you in intense
indignation; succeeded by passionate
kisses,
it was nice swimming with you through waters of the
choppy ocean,
it was nice draping you in grandiloquent floss of
silk; staring at you for
hours immemorial,
it was nice camouflaging your profusely bleeding
wounds; with strips of my
holistic skin,
it was nice obliterating you from acrimonious beams of
light; with my web of
scalp hair,
it was nice instigating you into ludicrous
laughter; observing mystical
outlines of your teeth,
it was nice helping you a accomplish a plethora of
household task; prepare
sumptuous tea for you at dusk,
it was nice recounting enchanting
fantasies; incorporating your fragile brain
with tumultuous strength,
it was nice uttering your captivating name every
unveiling minute of the day,
it was nice iterating my omnipotent love to you all
day,
it was nice pestering you to go to sleep; cuddled like
a fairy beneath a golden
quilt,
but let me tell you sweetheart it would be nicer still
; if you were to be my
lover,
for countless births we traverse on this earth as
philanthropic humans.

Submitted: Monday, August 18, 2014

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