Between your dewy lips and wet time
I see clocks of white hills
humming skins, throbbing breaths
pure, symmetrical breaths.
Inside the tempestuous wilderness
of your eyelids and thumbnail
A reflection of paradise exists.
Once again, the frozen earth erupts now
holding chills, heat and rains all inside
sulking the primordial fights
and blossoming tiny weeds of hope.
In the moisture of inks and skies
Indexation of our inundated words occur
Hysteria, Incantations, Contentment
™My Valiant Soul
A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times.
Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied.
My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others.
Curator of Olive Skins.
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