Separated from the cloaked wart, shrouded unseen,
slender feet dragging along her icy wish.
Venomous honey pouring forth my jaws-
thaw bones, sizzling to a thick, dissipating mist.
For again shone, showerings by cosmic blues.
Seeded by the neutral frost, a fogged wailing.
Surrounding jumbled footsteps already bawling off this
wintry trail of a shy pilgrim's convulsions,
glistening like sharp corners of marble edifice
under any light silently glare dull- fly, not hitherto.
Hand holders gift melting the spokes,
seeped inside this raw stun.
Echoed ecstasy fill her grace with cool.
The sludge slugged onwards belching thicker exhaust.
An over-soaked sigh and the mightiest wanting for a dangerous height.
Thundering a zig-zagged monarch's playfield,
Palms of crawling ghosts creep about
while the dolls of puzzlement giggle.
Fear, and conspire to be their
biggest liars.
YOU ARE READING
Rhythms From a Quarter Life
PoetryI will die the very moment this poetry collection is complete, not a moment more, not a moment less. Yet, what worries me is not death but never being able to complete this poetry collection. These are the rhythms resonating from a quarter-life.
