The Insult

Suddenly, one day

You become a weed

on a courtyard wall


The wild green

that nourishes

on the intrinsic bliss

of his domesticity.


Their murmurs of yesteryears

gather on your body,

hanging down

the dilapidated concrete,

and write

new epilogues

for a play, that ended

much before

the first Act


Your hapless nerves

become, the scorching summer

intruding, their frozen corridors.

The melancholy whore, You

spread like evening rays

over, the impending silence.


Your words

Your skies

Your cuddle

Your newfound womb,

shatter over

a forbidden land, mutilated.


The snake bite

on their moonlit nights, You

ooze out, from

a million pores.




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