A Road Sign

A beat stops. On the corner of the street a leaf mews of monsoon. Of summer sunsets. Of crumbling Eden. Of lamenting lullabies that people sang to wrap their children in infatuations. Of worlds that don’t exist. A beat stops. Just for a moment. To catch up. I think of the cruelest thing I have…

Hiraeth

When days go by in sleepwalk,When you tend not to burden people,with you.When there’s a sharp echo in your head,And you do not know where the sound is coming from…Could there be echo without sound?Could there be sleepwalking without sleep?When you doze off and wake up in unknown FridaysWhen you try not to swear in…