Cosmic dust- an ekphrasis

Touch thisDark melancholy,With those paleFingertips.Whisper the wordsOf silence,With yourSanguine ruby lips. Bring colourTo the darkness,Greens, yellows,Reds and strands.Touch this voidOf vacuum,With yourGentle, healing hands. And in your eyesHold the stars,But, there’s no needTo rehearse.Let’s fall and riseLike cosmic dust,Cause we’re the universe.

From a mannequin

My hands: put them back,Where they always used to be,Bend me in my waist, rest myEyes over at thee. Wrap me in your merchandise,Put me by the door,Staring at the desolate,I beseech, entreat, implore. Lift chin with your hands bare,Keep my poise at rest,Move my body, tear me down,And leave me to protest. Detach me…

The weavers

Spools of threads hanging low, scattered away like anxious crows. Vivid and different away from all ties, seemingly unique but a garden variety for eyes. But there are eyes that see what no others can view, and they are with everyone but found by such few. The eyes that saw these threads away, just gaped…

Those jade eyes…

It was dark: the night that day, and it rained hard: a storm at bay. Sleeplessly I stirred and sat up in fright, a pair of jade stared at me it was this very night. Two round jade stones green as a pea, and they just stared just stared at me! The stones advanced revealing…

A dead rabbit!

The land etched with greenery and its earth studded with roots, bright and orange ones like Mr. Larry’s boots. Boots that he wears everyday and brings them home soiled, the very ones that let him check all that he has toiled. He doesn’t earn a lot you see for boots are all he owns, and…