black magic woman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i found myself getting sucked

into the raw rush of ecstasy

into the erotic eruptions of intellectual animosity

as she painted her suffering in mythic proportions

of dense, intense delusions

and void.

for a moment, even the gods might have got jealous of me

as i indulged in her pungent prayers

of a common past, merciless present and an unknown future…

all this while holding the keys to

another unknown door

another unknown road.

so what should i offer her?

a coarse sense of false hope?

or the bitter pill of splendidness? – that i swallow everyday.

then suddenly it struck me

that i was the patient here

and she was the cure

she held the keys to

another unknown door

another unknown road.

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~ by rb on January 25, 2011.

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