“There is a field- I will meet you there”- Rumi
I know language of flowers and dandelions,
the language of thorns and crooked stars
silence resist in the topology of melting grass
like the Colossus,
I am lost in trepidation of white penumbra
surrounding my teeth and distance between teeth
hush…hush…my body is aerial
hush…hush…my grey segment of the index finger is silent.
In the cacophony of lost and found
I am a soliloquy speech
under your slick peels of love, hate.
I have a temple inside my chin,
for I am a pendulum of sonorous
©My Valiant Soul