Sadhana

you were down with it the other day and i bit on a bit of cracked pepper scrubbing linoleum tiles doing my Hungarian sadhana anger and heat mixing with cold realities no violins play when no one is dancing blue and red are primary colours that sing with ruffled feathers and spilled milk we laugh at ourselves like children with dirty faces and scraped knees, angels with nothing up our sleeves passion is a trembling shell we put to our ears and night rolls away the stars..... .