This poem is shortlisted for BN Poetry Award.

 

the fangs of the night lust after my bones
yeti reach out for that innocence
in the corridor of childhood

i have been staring as my stars burn
into ashes that rain on my black hair
but it is sand that my hair hungers for

i want to sit at the storyteller’s feet
and ride on the back of the cunning tortoise

i thirst for the milk of the morning
and to make my daily bread from mother’s breasts

to be a man is to drown in the sea of your inner tears
i don’t want to be a man again
let me be that child whose cheeks glisten with tears
take me back to the beginning of breath…

DON’T MISS OUT!
Subscribe To Newsletter
Be the first to get latest updates and exclusive content straight to your email inbox.
Stay Updated
Give it a try, you can unsubscribe anytime.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here