The white haze

They talk about everything so coarse and grainy-

but not my mouth, empty and cold.

Lukewarm particles of mother’s voice

floating

White/ blue/ grey-

 I see shades of attachment and delirium.

Together, through a visceral bone,

Skins aglow- white talcum powder all distorted.

My dressing table is a desert.

A pause. Concrete and blind sun.

I watch my image as strong as an eel,

a pivotal insect preying on itself

frolic, lurid paper towns-

all departing my marigold fingers one by one.

Counting stops and so does the nuptial song

with neon green signs, and yellow street children,

the hem of my lips, spiral now.

Here- I go to my bed..

zig zag,

muted

Collapsed.

A cluster of bones

Visceral bones
thrush
thrush.

Tongue of birds
A cluster of sunshine.
Moles of heaviness on my cheeks

I have not been sleeping anymore.
How can I?
I see black moths in my dreams

I am too cood now,
Watery tongues,
flattened bones of evening.

Knock knock
A thunder to sip and watch.
Gaps are collected on my knuckles.

I need R. E.  S.  T.

A rest as blue pregnant sky.

A new poem published

I have a poem published on The Hyderabad Review. Please do let me know if you read it. Many thanks to the beautiful journal.

Love

Devika

Metamorphosis