Nadia shaik

the sublime essence 

of his madness, I am the 

groans of his possession, 

the sighs of his every desire. 

I am the unprecedented

that washed to his shores, 

his every want incarnated 

in the flesh of the soul, 

the boil of his blood and

the steadfastness of his calm. 

I am the sweetness that 

he craves and the 

flow of the breath of 

his inspiration. I am that 

which makes him smirk 

from the burn of my 

sudden fire, but also 

that which teases him 

with the tickle of a feather 

making him behave 

while with a mere 

whisper he is seduced 

by my dawns and the laughter

of the stars of my midnight.

I am his innocence and 

the angel responsible for 

his every temptation to sin. 

I delicately ruined him for 

any touch, but my own. 

I am the greed of his hands,

the ache of the bones of his 

soul, and the marrow

of the hunger of his gaze.

I kiss him with the softness 

of the breath of my existence

and he falls to his knees. 

I am the blessing that he 

never saw coming and 

that which he will never 

be able to let go of.