Friday, 15 November 2024

we were never there

maybe, the artist only knew how

to paint her with

clenching her fists. hair mimicking

the clouded nightmares

of his brush stroke and

her cordial screams.

i am lower-cased flowers

orbiting an indigo chakra;

my organs shiver

and smile. i am displaced by

your empty clouds and the

full moon is wrapped around

my neck.



blushing old bride

 came for the nearing heights to wait on the toe of our left cornered kiss; remember the suction of our peace? how often does it forget? I a...