#Day25 #napowrimo #prompt:season

Black sheets of sound
whistle in the cartilage
The breeze has invaded

the closed buttons,
the rattling drawers,
phantom eels in embroidered attires

I walk into
the pure black mouth of a particle,
not a single light in the sky

I heave and all body wishes to escape

The trees have begun to dream again
Spooling in intimate corridors
a bridge of cold laughter

The trees have begun to dream again
In total blackness they stand
like cold metals shivering in lust

The transmission lines are squealing
I close my eyes,
my hands arched like bangles in ellipses

The transmission lines are squealing,
and in darkness I become whole and blind,
suddenly aware,

levitating in air,
my arms bound to the howling wind,
blood vowels in the sky

We lick each other
between white floss,
my body shuddering like a piece of torn cloth,
Then close into our sculped veins
Like Keller across white frays

©️ Aakriti Kuntal

One thought on “November

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