• sangfroid_soul 6w

    She walks backwards

    on days when enough isn't enough
    on nights i stroll down the lane
    over the unnamed territory of solitude
    i sit over an unoccupied seat
    and take out a thought from my half torn jacket, pluck
    (-ing) suddenly as it gasps in pain
    but it evolves into a fluttering dragonfly, swift and shrewd
    bravely she walks upon the carcasses of disembodied
    ideas suppressed by the buttons too tight

    the dragonfly soars fearlessly sheltering all its might
    listlessly tainting the sky with its light

    upon the ruinous land, spreading the wings, going everywhere in her sight
    softly and tenderly magic pouring all night

    i lie down against the Bougainvillea paper on my bedside
    memories mishmashed into clumsy letters breathe,
    knocking over the ink stains and pages drizzling quietude
    songs from the neighbours pane
    in my ears they get stuck
    my hands around the warm mug of coffee
    a pressed rose falls from an unread diary, intrudes
    my affair pricking a thorn on peace and sparking a hurricane,
    on days when enough becomes enough.


    I suppose this could be read backward as well XD

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