(After Blue-green painting, 1948 by Ad Reinhardt and a view outside the window)
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the ceiling spills over
a little its corner
dividing green and blue
butterflies kiss chase
mangoes sallow & square
snakes way into the blue
sky foot of the world of
which buildings like grey
rashes because every morning
socks like earth knows your
heart will stab you with grass
if naked foot a butterfly drops
dead it was not a kiss
an injection leaves of winter
are a sadness but I too am
just an only reflection.
~Ajay
8/7/19
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~
