Soured and Faded
and now, colour blots whitewash on blanched wall; yesterday distanced from today’s gale—on the facade, from where, towards the end, faced face down time’s row in anticlockwise retrogression; the beginning from the end ends in the beginning, with each footprint laced—crowned in blue daisies, we giggled out “Oh! My God” as fleets of golden butterflies twinkled in broad daylight... I recall—a cyclone had begun, wafted us aloof
one deadwood
makes no woodland
terracotta shrub
and the struggle continues—like shadows in blank places and distant church bell gongs in the eclipse of our eyes like the moon and sun in a miniature wedding day—an endless abyss submerges the hollow of a burning ring with a gully wind rush through the needle’s eye as we dig deeper into dark secrets of our cardinal sins; apple's taste becomes acrid, putrid strawberry on coiled lips, whiffs of death scented coarse roses, stowed underneath sloshes of salt-waterfalls
wooden chest
bullets from her razor lips
words bank
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