Sick Eyes

by on May 23, 2019 :: 0 comments

Between those thick obscure skies in city outskirts you explore a dog-eared dilemma; right with the advent of a medieval winter two smacked feelings chirp in your sub-consciousness. The cherries of Ephesus clandestinely look aromatic and godly to hug the early spring. The Himalayas become a very old metaphor that traveled sleeveless dabbing a lot of cosmetics with diamond and sapphire. What was the necessity to chide the chilled window panes and the bare cuss words? I smoothly suck your presence with precision in slicking winter rain with humming whisper; swaggering subtlety and stupefied tickling. The messages in the envelope of a diamond smile hitting the secret wound of a part of the sky. Beside and above your fragile amnesia that’s meager and ruthlessness writes a mail. A whopping warm whirlpool dances around flooding nude kisses from the core to besiege my wildness. There’s an intermittent honeyed-upsurge glued to pain, panacea and those entire sweet dichotomies. I hear the twang and grab the touches and the continental polyphony of your sick eyes.

– Pitambar Naik

editors note:

Look at me when I’m talking to you… Don’t look at me like that! – mh clay

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