Like a warrior on a battlefront
whose body and mind are in a cacophony….
the infinity inside her veins and mind
feel in sync with his every move….
His wounds
…bleeding, black and blue, soiled
…emerging from the skin’s barrier.
Her cuts and gashes
…do not bleed,
… impervious to the weathered will.
Like a lunatic lover’s yearning for the return of her soul-mate,
her dents keep waiting like a fetes crawled in every inside.
Like an inaccessible fence she may seem.
Or may be she is porous, broken, rusted….
But her wounds never bleed.
And so they NEVER heal.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment