by Gopikrishnan Kottoor
It will twist and bend the trees that must grow straight
to the raining clouds, it'll breed ghosts in the nights looking for your footprints
thinking you are there lost upon the beach
searching me; but that is not true, you are not there you do not search anyone you , after a night of indolence the moon hanging like another lover by your window; but why must I think so when everything you do is is for your open breast
turning to impatiens; turning jewel weeds bursting upon the night; it is easy to reconnoitre; you in my arms, upon my body, quietly burning in my soul,
building up like winter snow, turning empty in my hands .
Last updated May 31, 2012