Tuesday, January 18, 2011

My Maiden Flight

Very often I smell
A temporary breath
Of a petal of hope
Getting evaporated
Into the vacuum
Under my nose.

When love
Like a solitary drop
Seeps through
The unseen pores
Of a sandy bed
Of a dreary desert.

Trust gets twisted
At its crucial joints
Like the tender bones
Of a still-born babe
In the murky corridors
Of a tiny coffin.

After my maiden flight
I land on your courtyard
Like a petrified swan
With broken wings
And bleeding dreams.

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