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The unromantic me
You called me unromantic
but
perhaps I am a coward.
Tangled in the web of tradition and religion
love seems to intimidate me.
My education instil in me
a sense of shame
to admit even at the recess of my mind
my longing for you.
I can not risk being called brazen.
Still
you ignite in me
the age old fire of passion,
make me burn in its flame.
But my education tells me
how wrong I am
to want you, more so
wanting to hold you in my arms.
I opened the window of my room,
let in the chilly air of the wintry night
and freeze the fire in me.
A shiver run down my spine.
I am cold, chilled to the bone
the fire all ashes now.
My cold lips long to suck your sweetness
my heart moans for the warmth of your arms.
The body a creeper now
seeks to entwine you.
poem
by
Aimanu Begum
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