I was a teacher by profession and leader to a team for 21 years. Now on a sabbatical, exploring and polishing my vestigial skills in writing and Photography.
I saw your heartbillowing on the clothlinewhere you hung it out to dry,while your soul leftfor forty days of fasting in the desert.Through your now clearand transparent huskI could seeyou have marked the placewhere you wouldput them back—right next to your wounds.
In your templeI violate the ritual,by drawing the patternof your birthmarkbefore brushing sindooron your foreheadand turmericon your collarbone.
Twenty Words Tuesday by Bulbul Week 36 Golden You punish me by loading your cauldron of silence on my back. It isn’t golden. It is dark and heavy . Leena.
You punish meby loading your cauldron of silenceon my back.It weighs heavybut your antagonistic eyeswarn me I cannot spill even a dropand if I did,it would takea whole sky of paper napkinsto wipe it dry.
When you miss melook for me in the meadowwhere we namedour white daisies blue,where you plucked trebles from birdsongand composed music for the wind,where we watched wishing stones in the streamsparkle in the moonlight.I will be theretill you no longer come looking for me.
As if I needed a reasonto leave the porchlight onfor you to come looking for mebeneath the Bougainville planternext to the bottom porch stepwhere I buried my heart along with the house keysand place me in the locketresting above your heartwhich is the only place I knowas somewhere […]
Flower Of The Day Yellow Trailing Daisies appear when Summer ends, bringing along with itna wistful feeling. This one is for Summer. Just one hour leftto release my breathmy subdued wild heartbeatsthat starved all summerfor the lemon peels in your skinand the water mint in your sighs.Just one […]
I was too empty for words.The truth is,the sword I kept in my tongueto deflectonly the sentences that betray me,beheaded,even my carefully scripted textsat the turnstiles of my throat.So I am taking this rainyou have left for meto redeem at least my empty eyes.
Keep it a secretthat your eyes are my favourite booksand the crinkles at the edgesare left by my fingertipsthat cannot stop turning their pagesover and over againto read the endless new stories they dream for us everyday.
Everytime I think of youthe fingerprints you left on my skinrise up into the airforming glowing inkblotsof a Rorschach Testthat I always describeas shapes of the wounds I causedwhen I was being mean.I wish insteadfor once they resemblethe constellation you named after mewhen you hid it in my […]
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