A Thousand Flamingos

[...]

“You ask If I will write a poem. 

I could, I suppose

write the most

splendiferous one of all;

but not right now. 

Not when your hands

are brewing warm cinnamon tea

across my skin, 

not when I’m trying to imagine

what might happen

If you began flowering kisses

upon me. 

My dear,

how can I write a poem

when I’m already inside one?” [...]

― Sanober Khan