Like the sorrowful gust between us,.
(Like the breath between balloons bringing them together)
The loneliness laden wind westwards, shuffling the pink bottlecleaner,
from a mysterious origin.
A looper?- east west east- bringing to me, back, my own solitude
or linear?- from some here to some there, easing the load of someone similar.
Then am I, can we, be alone?
The sky darkens, it's the intermission of day, it darkens still,
The plane lights- on nose, on flanktips- are a winking Pythagorean triplet
and the sunflower souls shrink.
Teary eyes dilute the ends of the sky, inducing infinity, and making it limitless and crystal than ever.
Thunders
A low and dense drum,
Gales
A deep and immense hum,
The pink flower, unknown, unnamed, disintegrates and light strikes its soul.
The butcher's rooster doodles a swansong,
At the blink day during the perpetual night, reciting the feeling,
that feeling
Which is dis-
~Ajay
4/9/18
