via Daily Prompt: Silence

Cliff,
uncertain and prodding
crumbling on lava lands
a tale without a tail
(or a head)

You shake
your mouth, a pinch of walnuts
stuffed and redeeming
cream and oil
embroidered to the knotted tongue
singing like a pine cone into an abyss of dismal reality

They gave you 
shudder and stench
viole(n)t wrench
sores and boils flaking your bared hilltop dress
You stand
iodine chasing in circles
You stand, lips knitted to the departed hour hands
You flick
ever so slightly
A certain rainfall, I see
Assamese tea
in partaken valleys
boiling, boiling

© Aakriti Kuntal

 

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5 thoughts on “Walnut mouth

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