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The Shadow Self

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Sat Nam!

 

I have written a poem(prose?)- if you dont mind reading it I would

appreciate it :)

 

 

The Shadow Self

 

Lips curled up for the kiss- cut twice before embrace, cut the tongue

that tied us together. Because lately the words are voids sinking

deeper into themselves, I seal my silence in your restless domain- lip

balm that further chaps the surface.

 

It hides among our needle stack- like a thin straw of hay- the

response to curled lips. It breathes with pigeonholes patterned

synchronous to a failing cardiac rhythm. The moment of death stretched

out among months of karmic retribution.

 

What am I to do? Whose banana peel did I slip on? What if the wind

washes out my deserted sand castles? Who will find my corpse and shout

" To this one we have served justice, to his spirit we should give

loving farewells as we cast his flesh down the water wells of

yesterdays harvest- let his drought remind us of the consequences of

mindless meandering. " ?

 

The shadowy self, the lost pieces of my face, the limbs I have

discarded on the path to my soul, I must recollect and bring together

this naked premonition. A thousand shadows, casted outward by a

thousand suns, have covered the invisible landscape behind me, making

pastel hues out of vibrant fragments of intentions... who can save me

from my own unfinished sentences?

 

Only Truth.

 

Namaste.

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Sat Nam

I am Chithra,I very much appreciate your poem,I have saved this poem to read

it again and again.

 

madhatterart <madhatterart wrote:

Sat Nam!

 

I have written a poem(prose?)- if you dont mind reading it I would

appreciate it :)

 

 

The Shadow Self

 

Lips curled up for the kiss- cut twice before embrace, cut the tongue

that tied us together. Because lately the words are voids sinking

deeper into themselves, I seal my silence in your restless domain- lip

balm that further chaps the surface.

 

It hides among our needle stack- like a thin straw of hay- the

response to curled lips. It breathes with pigeonholes patterned

synchronous to a failing cardiac rhythm. The moment of death stretched

out among months of karmic retribution.

 

What am I to do? Whose banana peel did I slip on? What if the wind

washes out my deserted sand castles? Who will find my corpse and shout

" To this one we have served justice, to his spirit we should give

loving farewells as we cast his flesh down the water wells of

yesterdays harvest- let his drought remind us of the consequences of

mindless meandering. " ?

 

The shadowy self, the lost pieces of my face, the limbs I have

discarded on the path to my soul, I must recollect and bring together

this naked premonition. A thousand shadows, casted outward by a

thousand suns, have covered the invisible landscape behind me, making

pastel hues out of vibrant fragments of intentions... who can save me

from my own unfinished sentences?

 

Only Truth.

 

Namaste.

 

 

 

 

 

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