the rise and fall

i guess, at times i walk on the waters,
the ebb, a reminder of my narrow chin.
i have a thing for kissing life.
and i do it precisely well.
i kiss and drink the sweetness,
the stars and the sound of the bells.
i metamorph into a syllabus of a veritable smirk.

dreams hold my mouth and put me back to sleep until i am awake like colours,
vibrant and throbbing a dark spot.

at times, i become seasons,
my body, a criss-cross of lanterns.
it’s small and beautiful.
And that’s how i inhale smoke,
my voice tore away like sunsets falling into the rivers.
streams of gushing ripples on my cheeks.

there was a time once,
when poetry was all Mediterranean Sea to me,
with potholes and hammers,
squirming noises of silence.

The semesters of trimmed life makes me a moon,
a person in illusion,
a mirage rising inside the languid skin.

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