Death is a compound 
a process, 
a collective noun

Every day the trees bark
( gelatin folds of scorched carbon )
They howl,
in frequencies that we cannot hear

They have stood for too long
and they know
that death is a compound 
Not just a finality or an accident 
But a dilution 
It is a repetition 
until it is absorbed, until it is accepted 
until then
Death is a long gluey chewing gum
and my mouth is a vascular surgery 

Look at the clouds murder themselves,
then spread, prostrate on whale gray roads
Here it is that I stand
an observer, a victim,
a corpse, a child, a tree, a tree, a shrub
and death, 
death is a gown

Β© Aakriti Kuntal
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24 thoughts on “Undulating Umbras

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