The Phantom Lover. Poem by Subrata Ray

The Phantom Lover.



The Phantom Lover.

Beneath the cover,
Peeps and whips,
The phantom lover.

The phantom of coarse romance,
Needs fun from the hidden urn,
The Phantom Nature burns.

Dumb, mimic, the phantom is,
For its wanton-thirst it teases,
Sowing seed, or mutual retreat,

The phantom plays as knave,
To stir and fire the psychic cave,
The phantom on phantom produce wave.

Sunday, June 1, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: mystery
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Subrata Ray

Subrata Ray

Formerly East Pahistan
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