NaPoWriMo#30, prompt- A minimalistic poem
what is that throbbing between my cheeks?
a poetry fallen so perfectly.
a hue of colors.
Quiet, quiet, quiet,
it delivers spring and autumn,
a convex point of life and death,
slipping between my things now.
listen to it,
a wound of loss.
a gratitude of survival,
it’s the conversation happening between poetry and my nude body.
A life of ink stained walls,
residing, dying along with my eyelids.
For more poetry check out my insta handle @my.valiant.soul