How Clouds Are Formed.

-

Cosmic Chill Scenes

-

in your voice,
there's the sun
melting into the
b e y o n d !
tiny
fl
ak
es
of light
holding universes
that'd glitter
against your
navy blue
heart;
and every comely sight
coalesced
into the sound
of my name.
the proverbial moth,
s t a r k,
enflamed!

-

From my navel
Grows this spindly
Tree of hope;
You'd buried me
Deep in the ground
Not knowing
That I was but a seed
Of faiths combined;
That even hatred
Watered to dead dreams
Bore fruits:
Scarlet, spiny, lethal.
Look what you've done
You cough out blood
And the mushy pulp of
Your own deceit,
And my bark bleeds
Happy tears:
A v e n g e d.

-

कुछ नहीं का पेड़

-

some,
of the afterbirth
of pregnant moon
that
borrows colours
from your eyes
before the day is born.

[Excerpt]

-

says
the earthworm
to the bumblebee:
I was born fat
On a once rich soil,
Gritty like
Freshly scalded tongue
Against the palate,
When sometimes you
Suckled sunburnt
Remnants off
Nectarines.

My skin is tattered
In places now.
I slither into
Darkness
When creatures
With no roots
Plough our homes
Into oblivion.
Now, your trees are dead.
And my earth is stone.

I dig deeper, these days,
In search of home.

-

Reunion

-

The Earth deepens
It's marshy womb
The woods decay,
And dead fruits fall;
Our limbs like licorice
Swinging in the wings,
Their tips, nipping at
The fabric of sheer life!
And we'd wrap them
Like ropes,
Around our hopeless selves,
Weeded in, weeding out.
The nights are ours,
Days, we've never owned,
Yet, seldom, when
Meteors shower
And the Earth drenches
In starbath,
Your eyes would
Still be looking into mine,
And mine
Into the constellations
In yours.

-

14 kisses lying in an ash tray!

-