Let us make love on paper. 

I have been missing in action. For a very long time. And I am very sorry for keeping this place dark and ghostly.

My last post on this blog was over 2 months ago. I do not even know what to attribute it to. True, I have been busy,but then, I have also written when I was working before now. For some reason, this period, anytime the thought of actually writing something came to my mind, a certain dread fell over me and I would sulk away. I tried to compensate by being more active on social media, but somehow, it didn’t feel enough. 

While I was away, I felt this very strong longing for Viola Allo’s poetry. I follow her blog, but since last summer that she took a break to pursue a career in library science, she hasn’t put up anything on it. I found myself wondering what she was up to, how her program was going, if she was alright. I found myself missing her. 

We do not know each other personally, but she inspires me in the way that she writes- soft, delicate, feathery, almost as if the paper were some fragile piece of fabric. Such that only the softest words and the most delicate expressions could be gently tacked like flowery designs onto it without damaging it. She inspired this poem. I hope to share it with her, whenever she returns to the internet. 

Before then, you my friends, have first dips. 

The warning is belated, but anyways… Long poem ahead. Proceed at your own risk.

Let us make love on paper 

So take, take me away

And let the lovers we never were

Dissolve between these sheets.

Let us live the romance we never had

With only these pages as witness.

Let us make love

In our image and after our likeness

Let us block out the distractions of reality

With the beautiful drapes of our imagination

Let me stare into your soul

And run my fingers through your thoughts

Let me whisper sweet letters

Into the nape of your neck

Let the steaming hotness of my breath

Fire up the turbines at the end of the winding path

Through tragus, helix, antihelix and the grooves between them, in the labyrinth of your ears,

Let the spinning turbines light up your iris

Till I can see the candle in your eyes

And the candour in your heart. 

Let me dip my fingertips

Into the oil of your metaphors

And rub my palms together

In time to the crackle of the fireplace

And the scent of coloured candles

Let me rub them warm between my palms

Till they dissolve into paragraphs

Then let me run my palms down your back.

Through the highway of your spine

To the skin of your scalp

And back down.

Let me string my sentences like kisses

Through your toes, your feet, your shins, your thighs

Let me watch them condense into plot

And ebb and flow

Like the recitations of a seasoned poet

At the point of horizon

Where the heavens meet the earth.

Let me pour my meditations

Like hot wax upon the twin towers spires

And watch the lava shift and morph 

As the earth beneath her groans and moans

Before it stiffens into shape.

And as the waves of your passion crash into me

I will stand still like a deer

Caught in the daze of your awesomeness.

Let me contemplate the flavour of each line

As I roll each phrase, each word, around my tongue and between my teeth

And separate each syllable 

From his kin.

Till my lips begin to babble

And my knees begin to buckle.

Let us make love on paper

At the point of my tumescent pen.

So that the ink of my words may spurt forth

And paint vivid landscapes 

On the paper-white canvas 

Of your maiden mind. 




-for Viola Allo.

24th June, 2017. 

theMDmuse © 2017

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