the colour harmony!!

                I Today as I kiss my son, and he blush and we laugh joyfully, I think of my own eighth year when nobody kissed me as a kid, yet held me close, drew me in to in-between spaces and loved me as a woman                                  II The man I married asks me, “Do you know? How ugly you look when you hiss at your son?” and he reminds, “He is a man and you a woman, so better arrest your anger.” I am at once, jealous of my son’s manhood at seven and wonder, if a woman in labor is equally ugly with her facial muscles rigid choked throat and shivering patience.                  III That day, after ...

Now, I need to understand There is Charm, in solitude  Not the made up one, in a melancholy base For love and loss and poetry, but  that which jell on to your skin Like tattoos of desire and sin. This is how two ports should drift away, Like planes of tectonic movements Each one designing a continent of its own  Of candle lights and islands. Latitudes on your body And shipwrecks on your shores. There is no other side  for an exhausted love But, the grabbing chill. Your abdomen, Like a million spiders birthing  As you gaze out of yourself  from a long distance train