The Red Ceiling Fan

WhatsApp chat pauses.
Electronic love transforms
into fleshonic.
Lust is
love’s prancing horse.
Her body emits
an erotic smell of rejoining.
Like a shaken soda,
the long suppressed passion fizzes.
Deer Cave, Danum Valley,
and Turtle Sanctuary Beach
are enticing.
But the couple is
bleary with sizzling thoughts.
All other pleasures are
subdued in the carnal fire.
Soon she returns,
again to her widowhood in India.
Nothing
but a red ceiling fan spins
in that fragment of her memory.

First printed in The Literary Hatchet