I breathe in the
celestial beauty of your insides,
Under the parched sky,
of my inked soaked arms.
I stop, in the silence of the dusk,
where sadness like a mist,
falls on the edge of the grass.
Your words, like pristine droplets,
runs down my burning tongue,
the cold breeze of this racing soul,
clashes against the warm of
this, emotionless gulf.
I could feel the words dripping,
soaking my parched sky,
into the formless grey.
The frozen crack starts sucking
in the warm breeze.
there is life moving inside me,
an exuberance of a distant universe,
an unfiltered melancholy of voices,
feeding myself off.
Tuning, in my carapace
i become restless,
the shell, cannot restrict,
the relentless hails, from
the celestial world of yours,
in my dream.
The tears, racing down the river,
of my flattened emotions,
accelerating through my veins
seeping into my forsaken land,
as both subconscious and conscious,
mourns for your departure
into the oblivious silence.
© Jumbled Letters 2019.