Musing

 

All my insomniac nights,
Sharred, love beckons,
Hovering ghostly, possesed.
In your wrenched, blood-spilled heart
I rain down, a torential monsoon
Flowers lingering in sensual sweetness,
The rustle of my musings brush past you.

I have unzipped myself, undone you,
My rusted, forlorn poems.
In the looming, barren room,
My fingers crawl up to you,
Fumbling, lost, I mutter
My virgin dreams,
Blotches of clumsy pain,
Seeped in your skin, tickling.
And then, we part silently.

All these broken, frail days
I have wronged you enough,
Cracked open your ribs,
Tasted your gashes
In my own inner void.
And then, ditching you
Was known, customary.

I have soaked in
Your stuttering breath,
Licked up your dried blood,
Broke open, with your pain today.
As we write down our verses together,
Our lunacy sings, flutters, wordless.

Note: A letter to my old, forgotten, forsaken poems, on the occasion of the World Poetry Day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s