Markazhi
ROSE WAR

ROSE WAR

 

 

ROSE WAR
ROSE WAR

In my childhood blood roses horrified me,

With its crooked witchy nails
And enchanting trap lips.
Conjuring even the new born sun,
And queening the whole morning space’
I plucked moonlit frozen jasmines,
Roses were strangers…
But ,I love the rose syllables now,
Punctuated by dark silence
Sand winched between two petals,
The claws of painless death….

Markazhi

Markazhi

There is always something left behind…a twig, fragments of a bangle, a seed, a blossom on the hedges enrolled in the red list.

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