Mystic outpourings
are
what makes me
some what nostalgic
about the days of
yore when your
prayer filled
eyes……..
used to travelling
through my ken……
my visage---
a cloudy
countenance,
a bold convergence
of
mute magnificence
and you, sans all
pretense
took me through
guided trance
making me tick
embalming my frayed
nerves preaching
sensuality
with the sway of
your curves
extending
instances………
managing
nuances………………
of neo-poetic
parlances.