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Leaping, leaping, leaping,
down line by line,
growling at the cadavers,
filling the holy jugs with their ****,
falling into windows and mauling the parents,
but soft, kiss-soft,
and sobbing sobbing
into their awful dog dish.

No point? No twist for you
in my white tunnel?
Let me speak plainly,
let me whisper it from the podium--

Mother, may I use your pseudonym?
May I take the dove named Mary
and shove out Anne?
May I take my check book, my holographs,
my eight naked books,
and sign it Mary, Mary, Mary
full of grace?
I know my name is not offensive
but my feet hang in the noose.
I want to be white.
I want to be blue.
I want to be a bee digging into an onion heart,
as you did to me, dug and squatted
long after death and its fang.

Hail Mary, full of me,
Nibbling in the sitting room of my head.
Mary, Mary, ****** forever,
***** forever,
give me your name,
give me your mirror.
Boils fester in my soul,
so give me your name so I may kiss them,
and they will fly off,
nameless
but named,
and they will fly off like angel food dogs
with thee
and with thy spirit.
Let me climb the face of my kitchen dog
and fly off into my terrified years.
Aparna Dec 2020
;
real as it is

she incurs the rigours

on her own in a void

far removed from rationality;

out of her element


esoteric whims float in and out

of her headspace;overruled

inexplicable visions,holographs;

phantoms from a past

seemingly remote

overshadow her mindscapes
rn
adieu 2020

:(:
r Jan 2021
I feel as if I'm trapped in a room
full of things I can't see.
I squint and stare but can't make out
the shapes, the figure.

Something swirls between the shadows,
clear spirit like holographs of you watch
intently.

It makes no sense
I sleep then I ache

but I don't want you to ever leave me alone.

— The End —