Pagan Thoughts.

Her bangle slipped and ran a quick swivel through rounds of itself, in itself, running directionless.
A sudden expansion.
The bangle withdrew and like a dying swordsman, legs cut, grueling to keep combat, it fell.
Swinging the sword in honor of death.
It fell on the cold mosaic floor.
Its rubies scratched in dust.
Glistening untouched.

In a mighty swivel of her hips, she walked, the water, from her hair contouring the midst of her wet thigh, along her dainty legs, as she walked to it.Lunging forward, in an arch of a mighty monument rich in sensual intricacies.She picked it up, pouted her lip in the tiniest circle, perfect for air to pass.
To blow off the dust.

In a silly twitch of her bushy shaped, eyebrows, she jerked her upper body in a cruise as she struggled to fit the bangle through her wrist.

A distant whiff of hot sambrani in the cool evening air.
Right through her moist hair.

And then she disappeared behind the shelled veil, separating a part of her room, to show the fresh flesh hidden and opaqued underneath it.

And then she dressed.

His breath ran out long back.
He survived long enough , to gasp his last words, left unsaid.

Thank you.





"This idoll which you terme Virginitie,
Is neither essence subject to the eie,
No, nor to any one exterior sence,
Nor hath it any place of residence,
Nor is't of earth or mold celestiall,
Or capable of any forme at all."
- To Lust.


"Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.—
Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies!—
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena."
- To Love.