the passion fruit

Purple Passion Fruit


is my love for you,

Sins, shaking fingertips

dipped in honey

A secret lie

woven in the silky

obsession of your pink

pollen dust


through your gaze,

intoning the flapping of

rainbow wings

The scent

of placid dew on

your rosy lips against my

pliable heart


underneath your

feral ribcage, like wispy

nuzzle of

Hot springs

during Christmas,

melting in an obliged

satin of flutter

Biting and

licking the sap of

succulent passion fruit

of morning

Easing cancer

of legions of hips

undulating on the pulse

of jealousy


debouching of

an eleventh hour river

in the new era

Wordle #221

Beautiful, Obsession, Apologia, Hips, Contestation, Narrow, Jealousy, Secret, Oblige, Lick, Bite, Passion.

Image Courtesy: Google

Published by Smita Ray

I hail from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. My perpetual displeasure arose from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture. The conditioning for compliance urged me to put down the impressions in my mind. A few years ago I took to blogging in a language I was yet to make my own. I was fortunate enough to have my pieces published on websites like Spillwords, Quiver Review, Elephant Journal, and anthologies published under Indie Blue Publishing, Spectrum of thoughts, Flairs and Glairs. I believe I am a work in progress.

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