for all i remember the morning was obscure,
misty and dewy,
almost like a suicide.
he stood flowing, hopping from city to city
with mirrors broken,
a kiss forgotten.
i drew a circle that day to keep myself safe, i always do that.
a circle with mangroves, swamps.
fingers / traipsing my mollusc body.
i had a fever.
cold and shaky like a shadow.
i wanted to perch on the footsteps you walked in.
it was that simple,
hallucinating your white-blue shirt.
oh the smell we created like chemicals.
a cadence you left still shines like the moon.
i keep it in the almirah i created,
my staicase. a circle : of all the beginning.
I sit and fall like meteors.
and i capture your emblematic threads of wilderness.
a point of my sustenance.
you have a burning orange taste
like the room lit with forest.
dark and sequin patterns of lust.
i look at you and i dissolve,
a cape of Ganges.
From your cheeks,
i sip dews of dusk.
and i worship you like a dreamcatcher,
praying for your lucid footsteps,
A soft murmur inside a winter room.
cigarette lips and pink nails.
in your shadow of Auburn smoke,
lips wet like a half-baked moon.
let me trace your lavender skin,
a filament of my springs.
you sit on my corrosive neck and feel the black void spot,
i have bones made of bone-china and a little neck to proceed.
i stand and look for you in aberrant currents,
i split daylight across your arms.
to know the layers of your skin & words
i perform rituals day after day.
A windswept memory tucked between your lips.
a grey memory folded like velvet curtains.
i imagine you in a surrealistic way.
A song to hum, to ingest the threads of madness.
i think of you in moments of cacophony that stich my ears with a soft noise of you.
Autumn reminds me of things untouched,
glass window, stains on the broken leaves,
cup and cigars, molasses of thunder
I bend and whiff the rosemary bowl of smells,
incessant yearning smell of dear darling
a voice of hypnotic fluid, lush green in my blood
Chewing lemon grass like an ant of wisdom,
i pick and collect theories of autumn love,
(i have been dying already autumn summons now)
People say a thing is beautiful, if loved
and so i ingest this orange season of cruise and clumps,
like a cluttered bun- knot,
my injured knee pain.
A canticle to slip in my dreams,
slender like the shape of my body.
between the lampshade of lips and my porcelain lips
i carry your honeycombed shadow
like a lust covered body, screaming in rose love
i have a reason to lick your face,
your breaths in ways flickering
Beneath the mole of my chin, a night rests
it slithers a square black fit
like an earthquake, an earthquake
Metaphors of sun and moon lies
in my womb,
my place of sanity
inside me choking with your love
a surreal slip of owls & hunters
clambering unearthed lilies
You are blue.
You are grey.
You are colourless.
i have a reason or two to bite
your pages, the books of love
Phantom protrusion of amnesia.
Pills of intoxication
Bay of Bengal splashing my bosom
drop by drop, with chills neurotic
A wasp breaths and moans
slitting a thread.
I have my reasons, darling
to love you.
Ambrosia twirls like a cocktail
thick mouth swarming of dreams,
filling the cracks,
the walls, the ceilings, the mouth
the feverish body.
I have a thousand reasons darling
to love you now.
i have seen the ombre of your lips and words
like mirrors protruding a new leaf,
like a vintage walnut is hidden under my pillow,
your kiss under my pillow, for memories are my skin.
i have known you all these years
as the shadow of the moon, tingling my dreams,
making me nocturnal often,
your breeze like the nostalgia of lights.
and your mushy hands of solace.
pause and dance, dance and breathe.
i see you as morning dew
as a charm cascading as red as a blush
around my waist, around my milky thighs.
extending til my toes.
your breaths are my home.
I see you like an eye of perfume if any.
my dress is an Ocean of your orange skin,
the soft lullabies, tapping beneath the arms
joining cities of lust, a blue tip of tongue knowing
the pits of this coal lowlands,
it started with your wet tongue, caressing my lips
mouth like a band of tendons, tobacco burning in the palms.
your scripted hands, your oil dripping scripted hands,
they are imaginary lines in my mind.
thunder simmers in my skull, whitening the black
the deep-rooted balmy glass of kiss, stains and cigars.
Lemon and peeper sound, we sink in the moments of this.
and somehow you made me grow, preserving, pickling
beneath the dome heart of your nail,
i grew like a sun.
p.s- please keep up with me even if I am unable to reply your comments as of now.
i watch you sleeping in the coldness nights of eve-dropping
with my vapid blue chipped nails, still gasping for breath,
i watch you like a surrealistic, walking above the ocean
to touch the mouths of lost and valleys of lights.
I turn and twitch on the bed of mirrors,
it has parts of your liquid face
gonging, cracking my lips of butter
i still watch you,
from my heavy breasts to my small hands
like a cauldron of wavelengths, skewered apart
still dropping words of a decayed autumn leaf.
this body is lipids and a segment of cosmic lights
deluged in moist concave conversations,
with oneself, with you.
You call me honey, and I begin to melt
like an Orion of mouths and skins of Gods murmuring.
My breaths slip in the ocean, the sky still succumbed
of last night’s naked love
Breaking inside you,
i wish your eyes of chocolate rain
closed, loved, closed, mine.
Harbour of jolting smiles,
fever, broken radio voice.
all is here,
in my black pitch room,
in my crisp tongue.
And i watch you breathing, singing.