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An intense soulful poem by Deeya, in Different Truths.
Always
come to me in desolate nights
when I speak
the language of
salt in the sea;
of charcoal madness
of brine in my hair
the distant cry of a seagull on foam
Oh! Come on, the years
spilt on your shoulders and breast
of walnut madness
of the pain
etched on my heart
bleeding to the brim of a reluctant eye
The whining noon
eavesdrop on the dead shores
of your eyes, it saunters along
the purring lips, the
death of my cat is
moon and madness to me
The girl with satin sachets
auburn hair and peanut eyes
swaggering along
speaks the Inca tongue
I see death in her hair
pinned to her nape, moving
on her helpless knees
begging for life
A Jacaranda sings on innocence
of nestling birds; its
sturdy branches house
love and myth that walks
the ocean of life.
©Deeya Bhattacharya
Photos from the Internet.
#Poem #Soul #Innocence #Myth #Madness #DifferentTruths