Twin affliction
In body’s entourage twin ports
need
be checked; sense of shame
and soul’s affliction, body yields
to revelry or drunken rivalry, dragging
into pleasure realm, sensory parts
move their own, each in its own
directions; love and hate entangle
us in a web of non-stop move;
somewhere in the tip of my move,
guilt always corrodes me for the
wrong and right steps, justifying
myself; I withdraw my self into
a lonely cove, my seclusion admonishes
and consoles as well, depending upon
my moorings; A realization love has
different connotations; awareness
of a love unpolluted by skin and itch
I want to get up, rising slow and steady
A sense of relief clutches me for ever.
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