You leave your shoes unlaced,
to scribble rhapsodies
upon the wishy autumn tepidity
your dandelion gasps tickle
my face, along
contours you run your warm tongue over
and over again –
in bursts of adolescence.
Retaliation-
drawing your shape in me
wanting more of fulfillness.
Primal satisfaction.
Tonight, I left civility
in the red lipstick case back home.
© Mohana Das