Ask My Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Ask my eyes; how much they missed her ingratiatingly mischievous smile,

Ask my nose; how much it missed her stupendously incarcerating and heavenly fragrance,

Ask my lips; how much they missed her voluptuously tangy tears,

Ask my hands; how much they missed her tantalizingly rubicund cheeks,

Ask my soul; how much it missed her majestically grandiloquent shadow,

Ask my hair; how much it missed the satiny caress of her divinely magical palms,

Ask my ears; how much they missed her incredulously melodious and mesmerizing voice,

Ask my brain; how much it missed her everlasting and profusely poignant festoon of memories and fantasies,

Ask my blood; how much it missed her unrelentingly volcanic desire; the infernos of insatiable passion that she ignited; when she was at whisker lengths from my body,

Ask my tongue; how much it missed the insurmountably delectable outlines of
her vivaciously boisterous nape,

Ask my abysmally fading countenance; how much it missed her unprecedented inspiration to propel unflinchingly forward in life,

Ask my signature; how much it missed her unfathomably charming impression; the tinge of her magnanimous authority between each impeccable alphabet,

Ask my bones; how much they missed her mystically intriguing footsteps; the astronomical rejuvenation they imparted to its deteriorating caricature,

Ask my sweat; how much it missed her rhapsodic heat; the flames of unparalleled desire which she evoked with just a single solitary stare,

Ask my stomach; how much it missed her unsurpassably celestial meals; the fathomless myriad of delicacies she prepared within flashes of minuscule seconds,

Ask my beard; how much it missed her euphorically fabulous nails; the astounding rawness with which she trace a trail of seduction through my unruly flesh,
Ask my breath; how much it missed her indomitable ardor to survive; her tenacity to face life; even in the most disastrously acrimonious of times,

Ask my heart; how much it missed her indefatigably throbbing beats; the tumultuous fervor in her pulse; that made me take infinite steps at a time,

And ask my life; how much it missed her immortal love; which was the sole reason that didn't let me die; even after she today; wasn't alive.


Submitted: February 05, 2018

© Copyright 2021 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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