poetry

Obscure shades

lights on this orange body,
this wood is a proof
my mouth is a squid,
hanging to catch your wet breath.
a fainting memory eats me.
for i am a sucker of bones & heart.

this is a spot of us, darling,
the summery grass of love-making.
i bite my scorched lips,
i bite my tongue to feel your departure,
and i feel hollow as a black spot.

a trajectory of million dreams.
stilness often wraps my swollen body,
and flicks my elongated neck,
until i eat your face, simple & molten.

i am that vase, half- lived.
half floating and it sucks to be like that.


poetry

The Patterns and Folds

self

These lines, mahogany smell

Orchid base— prediction,flavour.

A loose arm of sky swings

inside my bowl of emptiness.

The colours dim and the henna evaporates

It criss crosses my legs and eats up my entire body

A parasite. A swollen body.

I walk in the room and the razor cuts sharpen

Folds and pattern twists the softness

and corrodes the dewiness.

A slice of Death iterates here,

Something still at pause ( no gerund, no punctuation)

I think again

about this life,

I walk again

in the pits of life.

I am a liquid naphthalene ball.

Round and white. Evaporating each day.

thriving from square to square.

®MVS