In the utterly quiet
are heard tiny wings.
Hearts and stomachs
They spasm. Tight.
Bees make honey,
Flies make disease.
This is love.
some lack of ease.
capt ajit vadakayil
I still hear ‘sau mein sattar aadmi’ and dream about that wind-tossed evening in Mumbai. The sea was in through our windows.
I’m 46 btw. Gonna be 47 in May. How many memories can this head endure?
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.