My head rests

My head rests

On your ocean-deep breast

Stir up not

Your hands on mine

Knit a world woolen

return to this homeland

Oh wanderer!

When seeds garnered.

The guitar mewls silent

Cords left incorrupt

Music curl up on your lips

Let it have a voice

As our lips cloak.

___________________________________________________________________ (p.b)

mist

Earth hasn’t clayed

A maternal visit, pending.

It hasn’t poured…

Love

body lay uncarpeted

wrinkles tentacle

all over. The fort thus winds down,

Breeding age-old pain

spurting blood into a lifeless soil

The cropland left ungrazed

tiller leaves

spilling his daylong sweat

Dust clouds on the endless route

The village thus sinks in the coat of an unflavored mist.

________________________________________________-

(p.b)