No no take a peek all the pervs, all the women can say vivid things.
But yes this is femininity aggression and lust for you.
This photoshoot took long and inspired something as well.
Here's to the sustainer, the fertility of the womb.
Durga.
paint on some war
on your lip
let eyes reek of agony
of apocalypse
and your son
ceases to bury his ego
at your lotus feet
So you shall crush him
Underneath
Cause a lotus grows in
murky waters,
swans surround which,
to increase
the beauty of dirt
The stench of rotting carcasses
Dizzied the ones mortal yet
As she stood on a needle
One toe holding her
All, no complain.
Pain she turned into
Focused frustration
And borrowed a boon each
From the ones she had gifted
Like a lesson to them
Of how to use them
With the destruction
A woman can bring about.
More subtle than
Beyond the feeling
Of begging for liberation.
She reached out to the inner
Coronary flesh
Embedded under locks
That made serpents look tame
A luscious flow
Of soft curls that
Tickled her brow
And bore her sweat in it
As she endured
Ripping apart
Her own self
One single long tear
Half undone
Symmetry was surprised.
And pulled out a memory
Where the creator had
Entrusted the secrets of
Burning the womb
And making vile lil ones
And bathe it in nectar for
The most obedient son.
As crimson red adorned
her forehead
sign of spouse
his life
your only excuse
from the life you wanted to live.
Pain of never being
Oozed and colored her disheveled
And she realized
Nine more days to go
As she stood on one toe
The needle tearing skin
Entering within
Poisoned now, in purest blood
it lost direction
and wanted to surrender
give up and flee, but
it’s a needle, not a sword.
Adorned in fates grandeur
Lips beckon
Eyes full of brimming
moisture, that holds in it
Clandestine of something
More than what meets the eye.
Take a dip in her tears
Each drop
More costly than all of pain
Bundled and thrown into a blackhole
Before you realize
Pleasure and its worth
After a much longer bout of pain
And she is the truth
In you.
Awaken her, gaze at
That radiance
Like a dip in spiced
aroma tea, all four chakras
under light
surfacing on your sleeve
wear, your heart there.
And white light will blind thee.
And speak to the tree
Its leaves each tell a different story
Atop the last branch that touches heaven
Shall you find, Nirvana, someone’s
Backdoor leads to illusion and some call it fantasy.
But look into the visitors eye
He will tell of snippets lost in time
Of grazing an endless path
The weariness that sets in
Once you know the path wont take you
To your home.
And as pearly drops of juice
Honeysweet nectar of a warriors exile
Spill into your water pot
And there you thank her,
For eternally blessed shrine
That you laid
On the strongest muscles across
Your stomach.
Wild animals roamed
Around her, in a lament
That she didn’t feel the need
To call upon them,
A broken wing of garlic
Plopped in a hot brewing soup
The whiff of this delicacy
With a pinch of melancholy
Spread,
And all those who ate religion
Never reached spirituality.
a bowl full of reality,
offerings not sympathy
