there lies the human body- all futile, all worthless, all flesh
the season of lovemaking is over- now look at the unshapely wax
these are the legs that had adorned your waist in blatant embrace
now look- they pretend to lie so limp as if devoured by polio
look at these wrinkled hands that had deceived you into thinking they were beautiful.
The season of love making is gone
The clothes you left lying on the bed don’t remind me of your tight embrace
They symbolize the nothingness of our togetherness
Your socks, your half smoked cigarette- everything disgusts
Now that the season of lovemaking is gone.
You hurry up for office, for your appointments
Leaving me a wreck in bed
I feel like an unclaimed dead body waiting for the last rituals
Now that it’s daylight- you see I am not beautiful
Ashamed I lie- and wait for the night
For the season of lovemaking to be on.
A serious subject as to 'LOVE' / 'PASSION'/ 'HABIT' interesting call to read it back over and over again :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
there is magic in words and ur poem proves it its marvellous..some line close to heavenly