The call

Furlongs far a mount stood so high.

Dressed in mist, held his head in pride

Charmed by him were many eyes so bright

Prized to be the crown of earth.

Transcending my milieu was the landscape far

Immanent ran the scribble of the nib.

The call being seductive, ripped me apart.

Ripped me time and space beyond.

The froth over beer and warmth of firewoods

Couldn’t hold me long to my chair.

Torch song arose from the snow-capped heights.

Slammed the door behind running after the call.

Climbed each rock panting and sweating.

Torn at skin yet bound by hope.

The stags witnessing me being mad

So did the dew drops at the blade of grass.

Stopped by a hut that caught my sight,

Pondered I now on the owner.

At once came a girl with flowers;

Name her’s being nothingness indeed.

Sat by the tussock, we started our frivolous talk;

Talked of fathomless oceans and timeless tides.

Caressed by her hair, immersed in her.

Her serrated lexeme knitted my torn heart.

The two dissolved into singularity.

Beyond mere orgasm and euphoria,

Oh nothingness, you gave the joy, I longed for long.

-Tosh Thomas


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