I thought they said the beautiful ones are not yet born?
But here is one I've met and she makes heads turn
Melting mortals mountains like wax with just a smile
Her acquistion of this exquisite charm is vague 
once upon a time she must have been a priestess 
The sculptor sculpted out this idyllic sculpture
From legs that were carved out of the finest wood
Hips tucked in like the wings of an eagle
To a belly which spreads out like the plains of the Serengeti 
Up to that soft round breast and clipped ******* that plumps the depth of feminine charms.
Along with a neck that boast of the only head
Having hairs that cascade down like zillions of waterfalls 
With molten eyes and succulent lips that leads to rapid volcano
Mother nature presents her utmost treasure

The enchantress!!
Yes! That's what I call her
At the sight of her,I disguise my feelings with a blank page
But my heart don't fail to complain about its encumbrance by the rib cage
Every idea branded to prove this feeling is lust
Shows a clean pair of heels leaving the air with dust
Like every mortal  mountains I've always had a deep crater inside of me
Cause by the eruption of molten magma the first day she was beside me
But I can't let her know;Not now that my valley are filled with settlers
Caves filled with beast and I've become a dung site for birds
Probably when my coast is clear and I have a clean free flowing tributary
Then she can come and make me her place of sanctuary 
Adorn me with her idols and fill me with echoes of her enchantment.
The enchantress!!

I'm reading poetry at the cremation ghat
amid chanting of God's name
while ferrying and burning the dead.

The noise unsettles me a bit
as sets me thinking of my own death
that by all means seems closer than farther.

Yet I get the relieving feel
reading poems would heal
all the agonies of my flesh
and take me to that spiritual level
where I would take death as
passing into another dimension.

I'm not much of a religious person
but have always felt devoted to my kindred
seeking transcendence through them.

The best thing I'm hoping right now
is when I burn
someone would amid chanting of God's name
read poetry at the burning ghat.

dazzling expansive
vastness entrancement
souls dance elastic
in an astral transit
the further the voyage
it tenses attachment
stretching the band
is a strenuous tactic

s t r a n g e    d a y s
h a v e    f o u n d
s t r a n g e r    n i g h t s