Tuesday, 21 February 2017

Separation.

A differential distance slyly separates 

The dark day from the nimble night

The ocean from the sky

The shivering sun from the monstrous moon

The nest from the branch

The writer from the pen

The nocturne from the canvas

The black bracelet from the wrist

The henna from the palm

The dancer from the stage

The musician from the flute

And me from you.

~ Vruta Gupte, 2017.

~ the last question.

will i find myself  at your doorstep again? will i drag myself always almost falling asleep smell the daffodils growing in spurts and ...