Polka Dotted

Shed the skin you wear
Its the bone that interests me
The hushed soul,
The vessel smuggled by the
cupped hand hourglass
with seconds entwined like
fingers of love,breathed by
the silence they inhabit
as the world screeches to
a halt at the undone sinews
of broken moments,
yet again.

Advertisements

Ferry My Thoughts

Ferry my thoughts
on fire wrought phoenix wings,
each wind beat twisting into
insect curled alphabets
geniusly deformed into
light laden black holes
whispering heresies to
broken stars stranded
between thrush beaks,
abandoned spoons and
porch chairs,
till the memories turn into
bottled medicine echoes
nursing the unpampered
moments of the tyre track house.