A swallowed truth/lie

Piquant Ray’s
swallowing another vein
outstripping a colour.
A semblance of mouths happen
with a tripping thrust of tongue,
A man dies and another blooms,
eating a piece of time.
syncopated sheets bleeding,
like ruckus of seizures,
does everything lick time?


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what remains- time kills

sediments of love and despair,
like a dose of a morbid orchid petal,
throbbing in my blue cheeks
my limbs are rooms, small pavements that you rock
small parts, dilating trembling stairs of life,
a star inside a boxed room of loneliness
revolving in the thicket sheets of air,
a haze and a backache.
a periphery of grapevines, strangling
telling me to be naked on the evil plates of loss.
i bite my lips.
i bite my lips.

my body is nothing but a voice of pain
shredding, autumn leaves
a loose fitted, transitory polar air,
cold, crisp and moist like
a surgeon bisecting my legs, my frozen tongue.
and i am nothing
only a figment of blurred smoke,
ashes like a solid piece of rope.


 

and. i. grew.

P I N T E R E S T // aubreeweaver

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.
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 embraced this pain

untouched by the morning kiss,
a throbbing churning exists in the epicentre of tongue,
a lust, a toothache
starting from my red lips, a reflection of sunset charms
this pain is my baby now, spring’s soft song,
a hush raindrop patting my cheeks.

my two red feet,
conducting a juice of ache,
my pain of body, the missing inch of a finger.
a decoration of walls now,
i embrace the moments of white-faced love now,
my body of thorns,
a galaxy of orange breaths.
i become sunsets dripping blood moon.


 

Under- observation

Yesterday was the hardest if i must say
with amniotic sheets of lost air dripping my bare chest
and extraction of arms,
making my mouth dry, loss of homes could be seen.
Missing phone booth’s of lavender drops of deads,
and hunters, hunters, hunters,
yes, you have visited the I.C.U of my mouth
with palpitating halogens, demarcating a cleft of my chin-my knee
the knuckles bleed, towards the Polaris of numb soil,
if that’s a place, so, i am flowing.
i am flowing, doped and surreal
in hands of hours
clocks mocking my body, the six-inch pits of pits.
i sit and hum a vintage song here,
a dainty varicose nerve revolving now,
i am being operated in the midnight,
among the lamps, the shades, the silhouette
i am being deluged in occurrences half meadow,
my home is the plain stench of the sun.
it sits somewhere inside my hair, city of maps.
it’s late and i am under-observation still.


motions of an eye

I wake up like a morose light, struggling to die again.
Like hurricane to lost voices, burning alongside with bare chest, bare hands.
cease and demarcating the thousands of muted language
gushing through my spines and eyes,
My widowed palms are oily, lavender diffuser emptied.
and i perch on the laps of a sleepless blue continent.
This sacred feeling is like a giant whale, eating me whole,
rubbing between its bleeding hands,
distort like a lake, a sky of colourless beams
and hearts set on fire.
I twist in my body more and more,
a little more, into this dreamless barrier of pause.
The spun of itch, the scars.
the flat rooted chest- all like a flower now,
blooming.
i flex my knuckles to count the bones, hallow sinking chunks of skin.
this pain is a flat horizon of a flower.


a nameless land

i am a hysteria of beauty and ugliness,
eloping like a gulf,
a street shop of diamonds, cheap and blemished.
It happens at a time,
I evolve and dupe into my billowing mirage,
eyes lost in a dyslexia of love,
something chuckles inside my flesh of concave mouth
a pink belonging to my entire body,
a paroxysm of a gasp of air running like a haze, in the eye.
I watch this mirror now, the crucifixion of love and melancholy
to my body and scars,
this water lilies emerging inside my teeth,
and i have a swollen left cheek, from the last night’s bite
and a swollen neck, scratching
words of murder,
if i am the saline waters, barefoot
with no signs of lotus.


Bleed it till you breathe

flux the cactus outwards
stretching from your comatose body of air
Inwards and upwards, the abnormalities
with twigs of mahogany bleeding between your legs,
let it out, screeching your skull
till the brim splits and an adroit sleek barrier exist,
Your body, a stoic compressor
of thoughts and sighs
with longitudinal horizons.
Plain and sober.
Breathe and emancipate like a child with doll skin.
You will enter a circle, beneath your fingernails then,
a point of reverberation. Gulp the blank dot of this life.


Porcelain dreams

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,

‘unlacing,
mending,
roaring.

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.

a thousand reasons

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.
 Mine.
 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.