The snifflingersbetween the hills and the mountaina sniff to overcome a dismay,a snippet of a saintthrough the threads of fragile life.Jasmine- a floral drop of snownow between my knuckles,rubbingagainst my pillowa cry for dreams,a lotus shaped prayer.Jasmine- a quiet nostalgic hope,prayers about fairies and daydreams,The sun and the waters,echoing wool of the sunburn.The sniff-my mother’s… Continue reading Jasmine


I sit quietly, observing the silent curves of this Plumeria, a life extending like an infant. No lament today, only the surreal fire of this body, listening to the hanging exhilaration. As if, it digests the broken star running across it’s face of thawed bone. It shifts it’s mouth to a better pathway. It has… Continue reading Perennial

The touch.

Change my atoms of body. make a sin out of this floating skin. A lotus. Inhale my vapours like a sun kissed windowsill. A slice of moon sits on my neck watching your toes circling my platonic waist. a waist that hold your liquids, your solids. A moment of sigh and resemblance. Make me your… Continue reading The touch.


    i peel off my orange skin, there is a black spot like the dust of an ebb. in the soils, i see mundane butterflies can beauty be insipid? so what about the moon? i know, you will say it has the insane spot. so, why do people sprinkle beauty? if beauty can be… Continue reading Beauty