top of page
Search
  • Writer's pictureupasana2007

Hanging on to your words

Updated: Mar 7, 2020



You make words

Like silver drops

In the crevices of an ocean

And poems of old

Cinnamon mingled honey

And in the folds

Of your eyes

Your dreams float

And I watch them.


Are we dancing?

Because it feels like

I’m swaying to the tune

your lips bleed

And I’m hanging

On to your words

As if a thread strung

Between alive

And madness.

14 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

A tiny tendril escapes From the yellow -brown stalk Life salvaged from nearly-crumbling-into-the-soil I smile triumphant I think of my mother And her fifty-three pots Of lilies, orchids, roses Even a

I haven’t changed the bedsheets In the seven days since you left The scent of your skin Still lingers Like ocean spray On my hair In the folds of the cloth remain Memories of our entwined limbs, dream

The fire roared Consuming what was once tree And the sap of life drained from the wood made the fire crackle. Everything turned to ashes But the warmth touched our bones does that mean I’ve a bit of t

bottom of page