Pulleywork Of The Spine Poem by Kumar Sen

Love, you unfurl as a helix of rust-veined quartz,
coiling through my marrow's uncharted vaults.
Your voice: a flock of obsidian sparrows,
sharding the ether into prisms of pause.

We are the seam where glaciers gnaw on silk,
a pendulum swung by invisible elk.
Your gaze ignites the pulleys of my spine,
hauling up orchards from a fathomless mine.

In your shadow, I taste the syntax of storms,
where lightning scribes our vows in thorn-wrought forms.
We brew symphonies from pulverized bone-dust,
two architects of a vertigo trust.

Let fingers braid the frayed hems of the void,
unspool our pulses into a comet's alloy.
No petals, no tides—only this feral forge,
where we hammer eternity from a single gorge.