Like a nomad trespassing border’s edge,
I rip moonlight’s seeds apart ; drain the pulp
of my creamed bosoms, shapeless—
meandering along tracks of notes and interludes
so orange, strangely orange
in near Autumn's fuming light. And as the hollow
of a world dilutes unfinished refrains
through dances untamed,
my lips turn midnight into a wayward trance.
I was so close to the language of myself,
this navel unbuttoned and numb
by aimless wanderings still, still...
I took absence of me.
Somehow, the husk of November slowly unwraps
my flesh incandescent, as if to burn the oil,
to give a name to lapses of unravelled
trails. The delicacy of soil nourishes my thighs,
anchored once more
unto the swell of awakening. I stayed away
a tad long in some vacant space
without food for womb only transients like me
could bear…a lull perhaps that compels
a mouth to feed on the nectar of life’s ‘now’,
ploughing my arms back to seeds’ core
where my inner place resides.
Contest:Know Your PLace of Drake Eszes