Hear it once again

  Imagine me in your room, the aerial space filled with the sniff of rosemary candles. Imagine how I sit and lift up my chin to decode a language now, A voice that breaks the linings of the wall. When you look at me, You see my words, my eyes that unravel the thread of… Continue reading Hear it once again

monsoon in winters

NaPoWriMo-8 There is this pond at the back of my backyard, filled with kerosene and knots of pale moonlight. I drink summer drops from the systematic cold windpipes. There is a blurb. Short. Precise. Like a mother’s gentle touch. A glistening path of nothingness. Absolute silence. Here, my body sits and watches the dance of… Continue reading monsoon in winters

A women’s spring

i have a mouth of needles and feet like albumen, peppermint walks of my body deliver a soft voice, I squeak often and break like vintage china, leaking is the catharsis, moon or the sun, we leak sideways. Ferment tales on my pillows, sliding a perforated cup of talks to my own self, (my own… Continue reading A women’s spring

a little love

i do not say i want your metaphors all the time. I need your bowl of reflections, white and pure. Thick fog running through my backbones, i am tired of feeling this red colour inside my body. Dilute it, maybe?Splash a mute word, spreading like a fungus, onto my body. You see, i don’t want… Continue reading a little love

Greys and black

Elis has a paper ball texture, crisp and crumpled veins of love. Her nakedness is the march towards the fruits of springs, countless motions of time. Her liquid lips, cryptic to herself. She neatly defies the existence of frailty. The frailty of summer’s hope and frailty of meadows spring. The heaviness of swamp and linguistic… Continue reading Greys and black

You can taste pain like this

Pain. The most inexplicable beauty of humans. Masked and tattered. Orange peel-like surface. As you begin to walk, you feel the blurb of suntanned skins. Lack of juices. ShOrtening of breaths. And there is this pain, gazing your throat. Knuckles break, like the liquids of body evaporating. Rancid platter of nostalgia. You try to walk… Continue reading You can taste pain like this

Vacant voices

A moment elongates itself like a thick sleet of froth thin as a membrane often, it’s a horrible need to ingest the petals something that slits the skin and tongue, watch the phantom of atmosphere, how incorrigible swirl waft the cheekbones. Often voices stuff my vacant rooms with leftover light. Voices like “Oh you love”…voices… Continue reading Vacant voices