no reasons

cold hands meet me like temples,
adjoining bodies of splash.
a mother, a sister,
a verb, a noun,

it all begins with me,
a feverish touch of mine,
endless spots of joy and birth.
a door often conjures murmurs.

continuous, ephemeral drops of dreams,
hanging like autumn leaves,
a transitory position slips beneath me.
i stay quiet as a hawk,

pure as hot wax.
A body rocks its arms in blue stench,
and i bask in.
for there are things growing, a weed
for no reason.

hope you are doing great.
P.s My recent poetry got published here.

Link to my poem in this amazing anthology
can be checked out on amazon.




  1. Wow! Congratulations on your publication๐ŸŒน๐ŸŒน๐ŸŒนmany many congratulations on your Anthology of book too๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’– Great work dear๐ŸŽ„๐ŸŽ„๐ŸŽ„Have a great day and night โ˜• cheers!!!
    Keep blogging!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My favorite line from you:
    “ephemeral drops of dreams,
    hanging like autumn leaves,”
    I picture every human passing by a tree and seeing all kinds of dreams hanging on the autumn leaves,
    and picking any dream they want.
    Incredible surrealism of poetic mastery. ๐Ÿ™‚


  3. Wonderful. Copied the blue link, but the version is not currently available in amazon kindle.
    I donโ€™t want miss anything of my favourite poetess ๐Ÿ˜Š


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