Untitled
In the cauldron of desires
We poured our dreams together
Stitching patches of promises on our future
A kind of mental foreplay
Like bleach stains, mistakes stay
They are hard to dye, they are hard to erase
Nit picked from the nest of thorns
To write an old story with new words, dreams flourish again
posted by Juhi Dua at 9:55 PM
1 Comments:
brilliant work am *stupefied*
Leave that settles
down as stains
pick a handful
of what is afloat
from the cauldron
into each others eyes
Our containers change
with them the corporeal mind
Ah, my stains dissolute in your
cauldron of iridescent desires
And so your's in mine...
1:31 AM
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