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at first, it was fast & furious

like jihadists on horseback racing to war
she raised such dust as thick as mucor
it blurred red flags
whose colour though derived from blood erupting from severed heads
radiate the brilliant colours of love

overwhelmed, you fell, like grandma’s breasts
chained hands, head, heart, & led away
captive of her desires into the strange lush of her supple arms

next, you’re compelled to lips in sync with her hips,
strange lyrics of modulating wanton notes
that climb high in swift crescendos
& fall low in slow descendos

like ocean tides, you rock her boat to & fro,
to & fro, to & fro like a boy on a swing but, you’re not on a swing
you are neck-deep in a sea of raging hormones

sadly, these storms, they don’t last for ages
& energetic horses, they grow weary
wars once won are never refought

this weary soldier, she sheaths her sword
she hangs her booth– a burden of moods
& relish her spoils of attention & wants
until the excitement of victory wears off

& age, & time, & familiarity snail along,
transforming contemporary desires into undesired antiques

soon, when next you turn around to look, again, at her,
instead of fond memories & butterflies
you see a statue still, stale, & strange
besieged by fungi & tiny creatures that fly
over decomposing flowers

you shrug. you sigh. you stroll along, feeling nothing.
it’s a slow fade – love.

‘It’s A Slow Fade’ is an excerpt from my poetry chapbook, ’30’. Click here to get a copy.

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