Love, Fire And Mortality Poem by Arun Maji

I like the way
You tear my shirt,
Rub your nail on my chest,
Bite my lips, suck my lips.

I like your thirst, your impatience,
Your gasping, your sweaty skin.

Love has to be thirsty, has to be impatient,
Has to be gasping, has to be sweaty.

I like the way you throw my shirt away.
That utmost carelessness, that haste, that desperation.
Impatient. You are so impatient
To pound me, tear me, bite me, swallow me.

Love has to be hungry, has to be careless,
Has to be pounding, has to be aching.

I love every bit of pain
That you cause to me.
I like every bit of torture
That you subject to me.
What else mortal love has
Other than pain caused by her thirsty beloved?

Make no mistake o love,
It's the pain that you cause to me
Is the very reason I live for,
Work for, dream for.
The day I die,
I must carry a piece of your sweet flesh
In between my teeth.

© Arun Maji