pulling and pushing
into each other,
apart from each other,
the red becomes mellow, and
pink dreams arrive in a wave
of a desert storm,
i remember my home
through your tongue,
i remember my death
at your teeth’s artistry.
like a fly, i wait at the doorstep
before seeking to enter
at the exit.
.
© Anmol Arora
Read screwed and screwed (ii)
Image source (Reverie by Richard Taddei)
waking up,
riding through
a dream’s galloping pace,
i wonder
if i bypassed my need
to be touched,
strung like a kite
against the face
of a shy-sky —
his eyes an empty-colour of opportunity, my skin,
a canvas bled —
the night lingered
like a lizard, in the thrall of a fly,
hovering over my lips.
© Anmol Arora
A 55-er for Art FLASH at WRT
Read screwed
the pastel-pink wall looks
slyly
at the degradation of a colourless face,
somewhat shaken
before the rapture of satisfaction.
it is being brandished in this cold
that isn’t cold anymore,
not even in a half-witted lie
of tomorrow’s promise.
who wrote the fate of this hollow face
that it doesn’t fall off
after the eruption?
.
© Anmol Arora
A title with multiple connotations — a short 55-worded verse for Just One Word: Hollow at WTR.
Image source (Pink Sky Abstract by Nancy Merkle)
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