Passion. The gift of another. She comes suddenly, as if she is memory. The home of pain. Letters of a lover, rustled pages and remorse. Passion. Dazzled by what is sin. Dazzled. By what is. Passion. This body needs gestures. All tongues are omens. The lonely precision of heartbeat. Kisses. Snow crushed into quartz. Passion. Tender, the curve of heels. Tender, the curve of breast. Tender. Passion. Pressed flowers, pulled from the thighs of books. A triangle of scent. Passion. Beyond her, a sheath of prayer. The arms of the beloved, the arms of longing. Passion. Streams like silent blurs. Then an echo: sound repeating sound forgetting itself. Passion. She is a spy, stealing treasure. After the hour of nameless ritual has passed. Passion. The gift of another. Hiding in a pool of memory. Passion. The opening of lips. Petals of skin, closing into each other. Passion. Falling into caverns like home. Spilling out of edges and lines. Leaning over the precipice. Passion. A turn of wrist, undressed. A robe of hair, undone. Passion. Eyelids closing, moist, lashes like fans, a film of tears. A film of passion. Fluid, liquid, shapeless. A body cascades. Caught in deluge. Passion. Mercury trapped in flesh. Passion. Inside, a tulip of flesh. Tearing at palisades, a thin lacuna of membrane. A tulip of flesh, split. Passion. Hauntings of the place of secretions, a taste, emissions from the place of beginnings, another taste. Another passion. Shoulders, dunes, elbows, cities, neck, corner, stop. Passion. Body, holding carnage. Mouth, drawing lies. Tongue, met with promises. A sense of passion. Skin stretched taut over ribs. Now an ornament, filigreed of teeth. Passion. Coming for seeds of anchor. Passion. Eyes mute. Eyes without suspicion, hands without betrayal: the only truth. Of passion. Map of no destinations. All leading back to waterfall. Passion. The lagoon filling with milk, her last offering. Passion. Seasons of breeding, lost. Love, made. Passion. Elusive. A slur of light. Fade to speech, fade to dark. Passion. Ethereal. Breath, hands, smile, eyes. Eyes. Mirrors of teal. Body woman body. Symmetry like palindromes. Glass, body, glass, shaking, slipping out of fingers, out of reach, crash. Light tumbles through half-opened doors, falters through prisms of glass, body, glass. A slant of wood under footprints, crawling towards bed. Sheets and canvas. Impressionist brush strokes. Skin pure and subtle, dark. Skin pure with female light. A contrast of textures. Touching frost, an early courtship of silver, maroon, marbles wet with moonlight, scattered by the bed. A body seized, spilling oil on canvas, mixing colours, sprawled on cloth. Still life painting. Then. Soft like wet sand, a body. The fragrance of hair, clinging to cheek neck arm. Kelp, dragging along a beach. A necklace on her stomach, beads of sweat, strings of pearls on her forehead. A swell of breasts, wrapped in lace. Undressed by teeth. Fingers streaked yellow: the gold, hidden, underwater. She tastes gold. Then. A garnet of blood, the prize of conquer on her thumb, a translucent film crowning her wrists. Possession. I am empty. Collapse into rivers, hunger paused between legs, to swim through and drink holy. Later: there is more gold broken into liquid, more crystal tearing into Yamuna. The magic of her alchemy. And I always want to miss you, while we are lovers. Lovers. I want that word. Lovers. Beginning with lips and tongue. Almost a kiss. Love. Verse. A love poem. To love verse, to be in love, to be moved by poetry and longing, to fill a heart with lips and tongue, to know the supple lines of bodies, like poems. To memorize language for sex. Yes, lovers. I want that word. Low. Verse. A whisper. The way we make love in the dark so no one but our fingers can touch, taste, feel. Love. Hers. I love hers, that is yours, I love what is yours, I am what I am inside you. - Anurima Banerji   Anurima Banerji Anurima Banerji is a self-identified hardcore femme who loves pushing buttons, especially on computer keyboards, except when they crash! Anurima Banerji est une 'self-identified hardcore femme' qui aime poussée des bouttons, spécialement sur un clavier d'ordinateur ....sauf qu'en ça plante !