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.
Picture design Anumita Roy
#Poem #Soul #Innocence #Myth #Madness #DifferentTruths