Gone is the rousing
The bracing of soul
The movement of mind
and body just by
mere suggestions.
Like plasma carrying
water, salt, passion
where it was needed.
The lack now obvious
on sheets and paper
where my veins
incessantly bleed.


Genghis, the cat, is curled up on the couch – peaceful, as if nothing can go wrong with the world. The season in my soul has changed though, without warning.

In a bid to write about hope, I tried to hold on to the scarlet sun, but it only lasted a minute. So, I turned to a song and this is what came up.

Happy languishing!


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