Your touches are tenacious

giving a sense of ecstasy never felt

before. Your smile, when my breath

falls on you soft tender skin, let me

forget my hate, my reluctance to not

to fall in love.

(These words want to and should be in past tense).


When these days, I sit alone on

the roof, and, the young night

breath on me, I feel the “you are

not here”. I learn the touches,

the smiles are the part of reality

that my imaginative mind,

abraded by away from you,

form out of the far away time,


(These words need to be in some abstract grammatical terms.)


#Cerebration is rare synonym of reflection as well as mean thinking


Daily Prompt: Tenacious

By Sangbad

A poet, an author, a reviewer--in one word I'm a literaturist (means one who is trying almost everything that Literature is made of). My books are available at Amazon. I'm a Bengali, born and raised in Kolkata, West Bengal.


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