You taste my hands preparing us for dusk,
in tangerine the sky adorns itself for dusk.
We listen for the nightingales to sing,
and let the longing of our lips know dusk
I slowly nip the nectar from your nape,
while lilac incense wrap your breasts in dusk.
You let your fingertips be moths, be wild,
my chest’s a lantern for your lust at dusk
You let the flowers of your thirst be vines,
while rivers of your hair run wild from dusk.
The bashful moon splash silver on your skin
while night arrives and shelters us from dusk.
Entangled, wrapped in silk we fall asleep
dreaming how to bear the coming dawn for dusk.
Today we are doing a new form again at Dverse and we will write ghazals.