Intimacy Sits On My Lap

Intimacy is bilingual,

strapped truth.

Truth that fathoms unrealistic goals. 

Goals are the cheapest commodity on the market. 

Market of pursuing lies, 

solidifying emotions,

and multiple extinct languages.

Intimacy is a raw, 

gummy and scrumptious language of soul written with chalk. 

As white as the yellowish silhouette of the imperfect Moon;

intimacy is the crux of imperfections.

Intimacy is the invention

delegation and design of spiritual connection. 

The connection that bears

rules over the heard symphony of love. 

Let it shrine the feverish tales of love-hate,

comfort and adjustment.

Intimacy —

It's a soul connection entwined in the blob of humanity. 

Humanity not only defines beings but also energies. 

Energy is called vibe 

or inflated moments of human emotions,

notions and prejudice. 

Prejudice that disallows to look at the other part of the mind.

Mind that sometimes inflate or deflate the core values

principles of the soul's religion. 

Soul religion is one embodiment of reflection. 

Reflection of inner self.

Intimacy

Four chambers are shoveled to rasp the breath of love. 

Love is unconditional 

and unpredictable preceding long - term intimacy. 

It's a means to encompass grave energies all together in a human body. 

The body comprises flicks of mass and bone. 

Mass accumulates pain, 

sorrow 

and joy in the soul. 

Soul rejuvenate physical and emotional strength to the core when once charged.

It's a circular frame of cognitive demeanour 

where coexistence is relatively discussed.

Making love is not mandatory when understanding and trust flung its peripheral wings.

Wings of everlasting promises, security and laughter.