i pluck words
from your vapour sentences,
they condense on my cold hands
and slowly freeze.
i apply their icy compress
to a bruised memory,
blue, swollen, silent.
i pluck words
from your vapour sentences,
they condense on my cold hands
and slowly freeze.
i apply their icy compress
to a bruised memory,
blue, swollen, silent.
Categories: Poetry
2 responses so far ↓
Abirami // Monday, May 11, 2009 at 10:08 am |
you’ve never been away
But you seem to have packed you bags and left! Why?
Pritya // Saturday, August 22, 2009 at 6:55 am |
My god! such writings! Very engaging. So who are you…varali hmmm….