I was born on a graying cloud
Abiding memory of life inside a raindrop
Descended the atmosphere with slow deliberation
Racing to death's door,
lusting for annihilation
Caught in your palm,
I was your tear.
Through life's dusty lanes,
beside your window pane
I heard the ghost,
she whispered your fears.
Momentary proximity
Mine is a forsaken identity
I have fallen...
from the pinks of your fingertips to the grays of the floor.
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1 comment:
Blow brought me here. I am yet to stop thinking of the visuality of this work, so that i can wrute sth meaningful.
Lovely read. No wonder the verse it bred have inherited its beauty.
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