HOT FLESH

In the market of desire: flesh attracts to flesh for
The mad rendezvous.
It’s not a big deal. So, it’s over. For we cannot
Encase an infant again in a slimy sheath. It’s
An abomination to detract the steaming-rod slightly
From the foaming furnace,
Most despicable act, men had ever acted!

Implores to Lord, bring upon him the mountain
Of miseries: worthy of abhorrence and detestation.
For it’s like to commit a cold-blooded murder,
To retract the blunt-lance from the hot-cleft.

Time to cry true-heartedly but in shame cover
His guilt-ridden demeanour.
It’s quarter to seven at evening:
Time to meet family and some friends at the ghat.

First participate in the match of ShareIt,
Share some music via the electronic current.
And forget beast,
Wipe your blood-smeared lips, pretend smile,
For if someone shall smell your ‘POUR FEMME’…
[What you as a friend would say?]. Perhaps, O yes,
‘RÉMY MARQUIS DE PARIS’ is enticing”: Vial of cologne…