Goddess

Mother Nature’s ghost writer, Aakriti Kuntal.

Day 26 #napowrimo #prompt: repetition

Sound drops through the catalogue of fingers

The body is a mutant

in this black life,
awaiting a rise, a tilt, a drop

I stand at the shore,
the water circling my paddy feet

I am a porcupine shadow
in this holy dance of tides

I am a porcupine shadow
in this circling of fellow waves

This circling, this endless circling
like a river in madness
licking its own face off

I stand at the shore
under a black sky of spinning birds

only a patch of cold winter
trapped in the nights’ drooping jaw

I am the chatter of life’s teeth
Listening,

Listening,
Listening
I have been listening so long

Each drop of water
is disparate in my ear

I’ve been listening so long
my eye is a relentless shudder

I stand at the shore
and take the entire sea
in my mouth

BLANK EPITAPH – A.G. Diedericks

a blank epitaph enshrined

in dust

blooms coal-black petals

of which her lovers pluck

one by one – here, ‘neath the seeds of repent

where requiems are born

beyond sound

beyond science

delineated in a still-life of an

open house

where she hangs

safe from the perversion

of words

absurdists have long tried

to unbolt

that which led her into

this refurbishment of memory

where she levitates

like an obstinate ghoul

taking refuge in the velvet underground.