What remains of, lost springs, and spent falls
Trampling, time’s humus, life’s litanies
An, aging sage, counting, rosary of, recalls
A spinster, squirming, in her, slackening chemise!
I failed, to redeem, my snuffed-out, smile
While you labored, with the rites, of last menses
To touch, your heart, I walked, an endless mile
While you, flirted with, pious pretenses!
After forty-five, life is, a pilgrimage
Love is, more than, a mortal tryst
But the outrage, of this, wisdom’s age
Can’t fathom, that, Holy Alchemist!
Between, passion’s truths; platonic lies
Dare I say, love’s a, hunger, of the skin
I smell, your chemise, with saintly sighs
Since, You Became, My Cherished Sin!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra