The collarbone cracks open, a petal of your name, a thick cloud of lust sounds that speak only of splitted grass I see you and I think oh 'home' honey-suckled touch, tongues: tongues interwined into sheets of desire of lukewarm, misted talks about us and hopes to stay. It is Summer now, a season of orange hope, golden grass grinning through the wind. It is Summer. I am inhabitated by the scent of it that twirls my skin and turn it into faces of love. I am a Summer-myself bleeding through my cold sphere daylight: water on my toes a gossip you all want to hear. I am Summer for you- for you to cling onto for you to breathe the scent.
I am stoked to announce that recently Indie Blu(e) Published its another beautiful anthology Through the Looking Glass– which includes my poem about Mental Health as the theme was the same. I urge you all to check out the same here .
Have you read Crimson Skins yet?
If not please check it out on Kindke, Pothi, Amazon etc.
Crimson skins – US
Crimson Skins- POTHI
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