poetry

My favourite song.

The warm leaves that twirl om my feet

your lips/ the effect of petrichor

a vintage scent of lovemaking

I carry your marks on my thighs

my neck

                    the teeth

    the interwined fingers,

the scent that blooms the winters.

My therapists say to stay away from the fever

from the red- blue dementia

It happens again.

         In the dim- orange light,

            we melt away

against the mellow walls

things I can only understand now.

Everything embers on my tongue

the silk- white sheets between my ribs

The body is a marine kaleidoscope,

an abode of abundant light

with the green songs

you float on my belly.

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poetry

People like light rays, leave.

People like light rays, leave- Inspired by Sylvia Plath

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Between the ribs,

arched,

the glow disappears into a surreal thing.

A wavy black mirage appears on a crushed paper

/  the piquant distance now,

    Slipping between the cellulose air of void/

 a mayhem of loose threads,

a dawn kisses by a hurricane,

Will things occur in heart now?

Or will the sit and devour the morbid mind?

Copper fields,

of dust- laden mouths

filled with anger/ sins,

Oh humanity! The disavowal of sodden eyes,

almost each night, in darkness.

People like light rays, leave.

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