Our life’s on a canvas,So crisp and so white,Endless possibilities,To bring it to light. We sit as painters,Acrylics in hand,Adding colours to the canvas,With the passing of sand. And we look at the colours,The soft hues of pain,All of the colors,That cling to our veins. And we’re bound to fill colors,Put no boundaries at all,But…
A broken heart,Bleeds tears.But it’s thoseUnder her eyes,That fascinate meThe most.How they crashOnto her skinFrom the oceanOf her eyes.Raindrops,From the stormsWithin her.How they glistenLike a streamIn the fall.Only a stream:Is full of water.Her tears:Full of words.Words:That weave poetry,As they trickle.Down her chin.Into the etchings,Of my palms. © Shanyu Bihani 2020 This is a follow-up poem…
The angel to me!
I wake up in the mornWith my eyes so dampA knot in the stomachAlmost like a cramp. I walk up to the mirrorExpecting a look as sore,But they are just the feelingsThat are crawling up my core. And the previous mishaps that are Irrelevant today,Are trotting to my silly mindIt’s something I want to say….
Sugar and Salt
© Shanyu Bihani 2020