Someone once told me to take this tragedy inside me and to turn it into art; to paint the walls with my broken heart. So I picked up my palette of mistakes, of strewn bed-sheets & of hands-held and I prayed to a god I did not believe in, for an ending to a story …
Every day resembles a replicated yesterday An incomplete infinity salutes the dusk At times, I uncork the earth’s lid and my head suspends below I sneak glances around, and Glides in, flightless, a verdant river. It barrels into the sea. Gasping for breath, it asks me— What do you want? With a mouth full of …
