The hem of my body is paper
and my tongue- the silk threads of ice cubes
The night spreads its monotonous tone under my moan
the voices that erupts my chest often,
about your skin:
about your name:
the existence of the Sun inside your wounds,
the mouth opens and a soft touch sits inside
The touch is of your scarlet memories
the sea beneath a mountain.
Nothing remains to be said now.
The body demands a blindfold
a language beyond comprehension
it wishes to float
to tear itself apart
with veins that sing songs of Spring.
a thing blooms too.
A thing exists too.
madness is an unleashed song
on my forehead of desire
like eye of sin protruding from all the corners
soaked in a desperation
counting backwards the hiccups spend under the sheet.
People like light rays, leave- Inspired by Sylvia Plath
Between the ribs,
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?
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.
I have a book out for you to read. Available on Kindle too.:)