1) Dribbling through my shadows,
A mundanity flows, sometimes like
A bout of nausea, or a rain soaked
Earth; perhaps a whore sucks lives
In every breath of yours.
2) Sculpted heart, with a smile and a gaze,
Formless mass stacked in a chair,
A stain on the shadow like a poetic mistake;
Which way a corpse would fall
On a multipolar stage?
3) Two wings outgrown, and a womb to dry,
Shred every cell or bubble in joy,
Virgin Mary or Charpillon’s cry;
Would a dream be immortal in a parrot’s voice?
4) Marked by age, and the fate of some caterpillars,
Longing stems wait for springs to hide from lovers;
Poor trees perhaps they didnt know why,
Stripped or clothed, shadows lived for thy vile!
3 comments:
"A stain on the shadow like a poetic mistake;"
Mindblowing!!!
You are master yaara.
Keep writing :)
thanks hun:)
Dribbling through my shadows,
A mundanity flows, sometimes like
A bout of nausea, or a rain soaked
Earth;
juz absolutely loved dat one!this entire write has a mystic touch to it...very intricately woven!
the feel f traversing into oneself, realizin its flaws n itz true essence... the shame n de smile... beautiful!!!!!
n yea, de casanova tale, incorporated , juz so subtle! hats off lady!
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