Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

losing my virginity


The rhapsodically untainted leaves; lost their
virginity to the tantalizingly draughts of the
unstoppably ecstatic and beautifully silken breeze,
The indomitably ferocious Sun; lost its virginity to
the evanescent beams of the spell bindingly eclectic
and enchantingly blessed dawn,
The triumphantly fertile earth; lost its virginity to
the plodding of the vibrantly obstreperous and
intrusively adulterated footsteps,
The unassailably glorious mountain peak; lost its
virginity to the sensuous wisps of the bountifully
bestowing and celestially surreal clouds,
The stupendously undulating sea; lost its virginity to
the shimmering sands of the poignantly titillating and
handsomely maverick shores,
The magnanimously stupefying night; lost its virginity
to the jubilant streaks of the sensuously untamed and
inimitably unconquerable white lightening,
The melodiously gurgling throat; lost its virginity to
the poignant streams of the irrefutably transparent
and seductively slippery spit,
The astoundingly intricate veins; lost their virginity
to the life-yielding rivulets of the ubiquitously
crimson and blessedly sacrosanct blood,
The royally sculptured palms; lost their virginity to
the inexplicable lines of enigmatically eclectic and
inevitably mystical destiny lines,
The profoundly fantastic hill-slopes; lost their
virginity to the exultating cascade of the blissfully
ameliorating and victoriously frosty waterfall,
The altruistically barren paper; lost its virginity to
the coherent embellishment of the enthusiastically
fulminating and literately majestic sapphire ink,
The unbelievably rubicund lips; lost their virginity
to the raging inferno of unstoppably fiery and
fervently royal kisses,
The amazingly silver web; lost its virginity to the
surreptitiously tingling impression of the
unprecedentedly fast and multifariously talented
spider,
The exuberantly blossoming rose; lost its virginity to
the boisterous body of the rambunctiously raconteur
and incessantly chattering bumble bee,
The exhilaratingly curved road; lost its virginity to
the wanton cavalcade of the indefatigably buzzing and
indiscriminately marauding vehicles,
The ebulliently robust cheeks; lost their virginity to
the unabashed swirl of the incongruously unruly and
uninhibitedly machismo beard,
The fabulously emollient grassblades; lost their
virginity to the beauteous sprinkling of the eternally
burgeoning and timelessly golden dewdrops,
The indispensably ardent nostrils; lost their
virginity to the unrelenting festoon of the
perennially blossoming and undyingly infallible
breath,
The timelessly persevering armpits; lost their
virginity to the righteous fountain of unflinchingly
fragrant and philanthropically egalitarian sweat,



And I; lost my virginity not just for this birth; but
for an infinite more births of mine yet to unfurl; to
you and no other girl but you in this entire
fathomlessly benign Universe; O! pricelessly immortal
beloved. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

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