Thought Coitus

[This is my entry for the Poetry with Prakriti contest 2014 presented by The Hindu Lit for Life 2015 literary festival.]

She shut the elevator door

and looked at me

her thought cloud: deep,

dense, laden, tugged at mine

our clouds clashed, collided,

colluded and sparks flew

in the charged air of the silence

between us

our ideas lost no time undressing -

at lightning pace

they tumbled out as words

in a downpour, dripping

from our mouths, gushing,

tripping over each other

and they engaged in violent wordplay

that made her ears hot

and her jaw drop

and her eyes pop

and my knees shake

and our stomachs ache

and our brains burst into

a billion smithereens

that swarmed around us

like a storm of locusts

leaving us breathless

and speechless

they hit against the walls

of the five-by-five car

no longer contained,

no longer constrained, they rose

up, breaking through the ceiling,

yanking at the cables

up over the pulley drum

and into the sky

we saw our thought-coitus

clouds floating in love

my Kafka sated hers

my Kundera mated hers

our Kerouacs copulated

and made babies

that we called Rushdie

and Roy and Rumi

and Tagore and Tolstoy

and Henry Charles Bukowski

that rained on us like bombs

dropped by storks in the sky

our thoughts exploded overhead

in a flurry of fireworks

and we were left in the lift, wondering

what to do with our bodies

when her voice rang down

from the heavens: what floor?

and I heard mine thunder back:

I think, same as yours.