Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Beneath the evening sky



You touched the lines on my palm
Tracing my fate with your fingertips
And the sun like a migrant oriole disappeared
Leaving a crimson trail above the shimmering waves
The mist dripped through the twigs...
But we gathered the twilight in our arms.


Photo Courtesy- A friend.
Location -Goa
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Kindled

Last night you wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis, ellipses engraved perfectly on my skin- and  I  ...