the way I close my eyes is a seduction.
a clementine red prayer to my body,
with dark clouds. a sleepless child humming.
a black spot spinning in the sky, apparitions of liquid monotony.
it churns the limbs inside
with a mouth of lust.
there is a dark room with closed fists,
fists that shimmer red pain. Inside my mind of a blank page.
a white pure kiss hanging,
like a loop foreheads murmuring a word.
a seizure. a dream. I close my eyes, I see myself floating
alone in the lanes of words, a reverie of mists.
Flowers bloom inside my mouth. Knuckles of painted red nostrils.
This land is pious for I am unknown to myself.
I sneeze like a ghost
with my hands saying my uncanny dreams.
a concoction of love and death.
it’s here, speeding like a wasp.
we walk like ghosts,
sip and drink,
the arching thunders of time,
hush and be quiet now. Be your own butterfly.
– Devika Mathur
editors note: Which bring life? The perceptions or the words? – mh clay