By JH Sayyar
Darling, let us take bath in the falling cataract,
Where mountain streams in silver madness pour,
And all worlds grow distant, cold and abstract,
But we stand bare on the nature’s holy floor.
The thunder of the falls, a sacred drum,
Shall beat for us a wild and wordless song
No need for speech, the rushing waters come
To cleanse our flesh and wash our hearts of wrong
Beneath the spray, your skin in moonlight glows,
The chill and thrill of love in liquid flight;
Each drop upon your form a rose that grows,
Each kiss we steal bolder beneath the white.
O love, let passion fall like holy waters wide
And drown the world with you here by my side.
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