A hot evening
possibly caused by
the tang of your sweat
your howling touch
screaming through the hollows
of our bones

we lie tangled
rushing in and out
of each other
draped with kisses
that make my head run
then turn
somewhere between your legs

I search desperately
for ripe fruit
raindrops, stardrops
tears and cum
that evaporate beneath your heat

when my desire
finally explodes
I run to wash
my filthy heart
and gather the treasures
of the night

By- Shaleen Rakesh

Shaleen works as an activist on gay rights in New Delhi, India. When he is (also when he is not) traveling down fabulous Indian village roads, he takes pictures and writes poetry. The Bling Diary is a queer poetry column updated whenever its time to run down the street with sparklers.