LIVING WITHOUT WOMAN’S VOICE

I become angry with her absence

In chat box, I do not see her again,

A disregard passage is just shown up,

The last talk held so long before,

I am waiting, making me disgust with.

Does she have another problem closer?

I cannot say in confirm, I remember her,

She likes to sit on my chest at noon,

Feeling her thighs, fine bonding, and

Smooth pool of water goes forth on fingertips.

Her beauty melts into my eyes, tense all over,

That holds my breath in the body’s pleasure,

I like her spilling over melting in astute flames,

Amidst sweetened brim of love all-around,

Outstretched over my body in movement,

Looking like a sequence of dance performance.

She shows some unknown disappearance

That pulls me apart to decide vehemently

Giving her message, “I want to live,

At a place, where lives no woman,

No woman’s movement, no sweet touching.”

I am serious; I began to stay in a dormitory,

I practice to feel no appetite to hear

Woman’s voice, sweet, void of woman’s query,

I am alone, no swept rob of woman feeling,

I am in the smoke of intense pulling.

I cannot stay long, drying me from sweetened voice,

I take look on the glass screen, she is visible now,

I become puzzled to see her all the time there,

I strongly feel the necessity of her appearance,

As if she is waiting at a dock at a distant land.

As if she is waiting for a boat to be seen

On the periphery of love ocean, on the visible screen,

She waits for long, and I stay alone for a few days,

I feel a real passion on her face, on the web site,

And I bow down on her earnest way of waiting.

I send a message, “Do not worry, I am on web page.”

Then I find a message on my wall,

“Your sojourn is intense wave upon your world,

Please learn to love your nearest and dearest ones.”

Since then I do not find her waiting on web page.