Valentines grew passé, reveling love’s keepsakes
Whilst that quest lost out, to a squandered affair
Starved soul seeks the pain, which a heart forsakes
Throb that nerve, with your love, lay my longing bare
It Feels So Good, When You Touch Me There…

My lips, lay parched, spread out to drench
In a lasting thirst, not a kiss debonair
Kindle more my fire, which dares you to quench
With that artless love, your blasé flair
It Feels So Good, When You Touch Me There…

Making love, every night, on a wrinkled bed
Is anything, but love; a stark game of solitaire!
Let’s mate our souls, our hearts, instead
Caress thru my skin, thaw my tomb of despair
It Feels So Good, When You Touch Me There…

Valentines are for those, who await love fests
Not for lovelorn heart, mad as a March hare
Who care for being spent, in love-conquests!
Of course not those, whose love’s, a faith austere
It Feels So Good, When You Touch Me There…

© 2017 Vikas Chandra