To flirt, with fire, every day
They yearn, not for, end of, their thirst
Nor, misery of, moral melee
When fury, razes, faith of fear, to dust!

Whisper, no more, knock down, the door
Love is, no secret, for closets
Nor lust, anymore, shame’s metaphor
But a, celebration of, spent regrets!

From this, ritual of, moral funeral
May a, new belief in, love be born
Beyond, sacrament of, sin, social
May two, magpies bleed, by a, cherished thorn!

Lest they, spend an age, seeking a man
To sleep, in his, manhood’s coffin
Chose, to be free, in the, “Clitoral Clan”
With satire, of love, graffitied, on skin
Two Fireflies, In, Monsoon Of Sin!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra