We are the voice


i understand that feeling of leaking.
an untold truth from your orange laps,
You breathe deeply, like a concave mirror dropping in shreds.
You wish to be gentle, to be soft.
A smouldering aroma that sits quietly on the bosom, nonchalantly.

I understand the pain and the peeling of throats past evening,
You force a dry smile, day after day on your smitten wrinkled face.
I understand how the walls of your lobby appeared,
lost in ignorance,
where people walked in and they left without a souvenir.

You have many branches, girl
smoke on an ashtray, burning still.
You can feel the hollowness of Earth.
the languid smell it holds, it carries us,
we the dead morbid souls.

I understand that lisp in your backbone,
your words burning inside like a leaf dying,
A point of everything comes for everything.
Accept it, girl, you are the voice.
Watch the sunset, you can swallow it all.


  1. Another deep and wonderful write. Your writing is always so vivid and artistic.
    I read this piece twice and arrived at two completely different interpretations; making it even more profound and beautiful.
    In both tales that I saw, a young woman full of emptiness, doubts, insecurities, perhaps a little sordid, but nonetheless, as weak and as incapable as she sees herself, she can defeat everything (“you can swallow it all”).
    That is my humbled reading of course. MVS please take a bow.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Hehe. Sure. That was one. You have any means where we can connect to have philosophical conversations , I mean would be interesting to know view of writer like you.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You are so talented, you should be on social media. Market or rather at least put up your work .
        And ya . You have mail id. Communication will be slow. But best medium. What say ?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. No, I am not comfortable that way through mails.
        And I am a published poet I know actually what will work best for me. On Instagram, you will find all crappy poetries that’s why I don’t prefer much


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