Lover’s Dream

My dream wiggles out of the dormant shell,

Like a snail drenched in celestial deluge,

A dream of red wine that fills the lover’s heart;

My drunken mouth finds your soft mouth,

Crystallizes into an evening of dew,

My ardent lips find your moist lips,

In a kiss predestined and long due;

A kiss of flesh, a kiss of blood,

A kiss so divine,

Uniting our body and soul,

Once again in many lives;

A union blessed by the gods in heaven,

Sprinkled with holy rain drops and drizzly tears,

Precious gems thread in a rosary to chant our name,

Cheered by the moon and the stars ardently,

Lovers reborn in eternity

Anita Bacha

A Poem

In the deep silence of twilight,

I hear the screech of your pen on my heart;

Tears flow from my eyes,

Because I know you carve this poem for me;

Your fingers, speckled with ink,

Sketch words of love on my body,

Caress my lips thirsty of your kisses,

Paint my hair the colour of dawn

Anita Bacha




Precious psychic words,

Fly me to my love!



Powerful, mighty eagles,

Fly me to my love!

Up and above,

Valleys and mountain tops,

Oceans and lands,

Fly me to my love!

Touch him,

Kiss him,

Fondle him,

Squeeze him!



Divine words,

Fly me to my love!

Pierce his heart,

Conquer his soul,

Possess him,

Enchant him,

Make him my own!



Invisible atoms of my soul,

Fly me to my love!




Ejaculating in joyous delight,

Fly me to my love!

Anita Bacha©






I think of you all the time,

But I think of you more in the mango season;
I think of you when I eat ripe mangoes,
Peeled with a sharp knife,
Sliced, mixed with raw sea salt and fresh red chilies,
Like you eat ripe mangoes in Ceylon;

I think of your visit every mango season,
My thrill when you arrived at the airport,
The unleashed love in your hugs,
The gifts of delicacies and fine lingerie,
And you, my obsession,
And your panic attacks, your bouts of depression,
Your tears and your snorts;
I’d cook for you, I’d brew your tea, and I’d warm water for your bath,
I was so overwhelmed to have you in the mango season,
Every ripe mango was a feast too juicy,
Every moment, an eternity,
A promise of unbound happiness,
Counting the days deemed pointless;

When you confessed your love for my best friend,
The mango season crashed to an end,
We’d roll over the top of mango trees,
We’d swim in a punch of thick, sticky mango sap,
We’d come out naked and sad,
As you walked away from me, my hand you forego,
I loved you so much; I had to let you go;

I wait for the mango season every year,
I wait for memories that linger,
For ripe mangoes as sweet as love and petting,
Added salt and chili sarcastically begetting
Grief and pain,
Corollaries of an amorous adventure again
Anita Bacha


On the quay of farewell,

In a covetous embrace

You gave me your heart;

On the quay of farewell,

You wiped my tears with your lips,

You offered me your eyes;

On the quay of farewell,

You spoke to me about your suffering,

You wanted my mouth to feel your fading breath;

On the quay of farewell,

You wanted me to remember your desires,

Your thirst and your hunger in-satiate;

On the quay of farewell,

You fumbled for the tenderness and sweetness that are in me,

That you will never find in another;

On the quay of farewell,

You hugged me tight in your arms,

You wanted to keep me forever;

On the quay of farewell,

Heavy as a winter coat,

The separation bent you into two


You shouted my name ‘Ani!’

Anita Bacha