I rise above the clamour
You can almost touch the softness in my voice
I give you the sweetest break from this incessant noise
Grieve in my lap and open your mouth
My hand will stretch
Hide
Now I seek
I seek, I seek
I search for your forlorn heart with a fondness
Fingers caress your caged grief
They pinch your bony bars
Sharpened sensations
Wide smile carvings
Over fickle rock
Salutes, chop-chop
Tickle tickle tickle
Eat
My fingers eat
Chomp, chomp, and chomp
Do not pay; pay heed
By you
Also
By me
Do not let me supersede
Do not let me supersede
Flee before I feed
Flee before I feed
YOU ARE READING
Rhythms From a Quarter Life
PoetryI will die the very moment this poetry collection is complete, not a moment more, not a moment less. Yet, what worries me is not death but never being able to complete this poetry collection. These are the rhythms resonating from a quarter-life.
