Metaphysical Touch

A metaphysical touch,

Brushing like the wind,

In that other place:

You cannot reach the skies,

The skies, they have no eyes,

But watching you,

They give in to delight;

You are a sprite,

And you are bright,

The romance lingering

Like light,

Immutable, Unmovable,

There I find it beautiful,

Even as a sin of errors,

Everything is ruby-painted,

Empirically being wrong,

When the taste of lust is

Gone and leaving nothing

But the wonderment,

That too is left out the question,

It’s carefully light

On its feet,

Weightlessness with no defeat,


Of thought corroding,

Only passion’s warm glance remaining,

When it’s not reality;

It’s singing inwardly,

‘Intus canere’;

There’s no material culture,

Nothing based on visuals,

Love is strongholded,

Flames fireproofed,


Where the metaphysical caress

Lingers on.

The End

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