A story of kite

A kite soaring ahead
and no strings attached
swam across the
sea of clouds

In a raging wind
it fluttered its wings
to reach those peaks
never touched by demons

A spirit is she
painted
in dark red colour

as thunder strikes through her body
a serpent on fire
she would writhe in pain
will blind herself
in fumes of acidic smoke

As rain pours
a soothing touch in red hot skin
steam would splurge form her throat
a fountain of hot spring

Let a touch, a sight
or a wizzing sound of her flight
ever come across you

as a pugachev on a sukhoi
would you stream ahead
to touch those distant stars...

A passionate Kiss

i see men and women kissing
behind the dark alleys
and in the cushioned seats
of a bullet train..
In the streets of Paris
and in the forts of Delhi
a hand would twitch
a finger would tap
love flows through their veins

And..

each piercing themselves
more deeper into an abyss
closing ones eyes and searching for
death

at a ghost station in Berlin
stood a man in red tunics
like a statue half fallen
leaning on to a mystic figure

Fingers tapped on the walls
And as if struck by lightning
his hands jerked in rhythmic bursts
a wave in roaring seas

I could see his wet lips
twitching in hour of ecstasy
a fit of cough trapped him
and made him lean more

i bewitched by the scene
walked to him in hurried haste
to see his lover before she flees
behind the corridor
stood him
pressed on to a wall
as his face touched the
cold metallic rails
a puff of smoke from an old Cuban cigar
made love n air.....