Friday, 13 February 2015

behind me

i misinterpreted his lines
across his eyes for numbness.
he breathes and i know he
still writes our names across
the universes’ drunks.
i left without leaving your eyes
and when we sleep i
am withered away.


‎punching your brick walled
embroidery depleted my
untamed tangible breathes.
‎fair and casted away while
we lay awake in aptitude of words.
solidarity forms our person
into this;
soul abode of freedom 
smiles.


this will be my last poem

so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...