My mouth burns.
I speak, because I don't want to
speak. It was the red rose, responsible.

I must start conversation
with death. It was enough to visit me
again and again. A kiss will silence the voice.

Untold, the domain enlarges.
You would fight sexism. It was rising
like crimson flames. Do you know the real?

O moon, evergreen diva,
you come back in blue lake when
butterflies come to swim.

Etherialization begins.
I will write with my signature style.
Night walk spares the bleeding songs.

A beautiful stroke
elevates the pain. My life was just
like my poems written in dark.

Life rattles you so hard, that
you were going to become a clown on
the verge of committing chaste crimes.

Everything is changing color.
I wrung my feet in sand to make
them ready to walk on burning coals.

The other side of pain meets a
moon. You want to suffer silently.
Nobody knows the departure.

Nature was conservative.
I was writing new poems, killing
the stories. There was pain for pain.

In my shortness, I find
tall soul-trees, who talk like Buddha
at night to bring back blue black thoughts.

After all balloons will fly
to follow queer small gods playing
with paralysed voices.

A Dirwish is reborn.
Struggling to write a song
for you, wearing the gold rings.

A perfect analogy. Volatile
earth puts on the moons to save the
poetry in the spirit of love.

Are you sure this was
right? Can you differentiate between
truths, myths, and angels. I die daily.

I Will Never Know

Why do I feel I am
losing you amongst the stars.
Half-life went to straighten hierarchy.

Your face becomes a temple.
Lips were the steps to reach sanctum-
sanctorum in dark.

Light splits the heart
after incomplete hugs. What gifts
I give to you. Roses have dried up.

A sparrow tries to catch
an arrow in air, that hurts her wings.
Why were you different from others.

There were many pains
to understand each other.
Behind the mirror no one stands.

The soul does not die.
Becomes a cloud to marry a hilltop,
where you will wait for the moonrise.