daylight folds and microscopic moons bloom from the spine of fish
Tag: haiku
become a figure of love she says and quietly limbs rebel
words rust and disintegrate before they leave pale lips
bedside alley toes exhume the carcass of a beetle from darkness
stone insects follow the great divide and crawl across summer’s horizon
islands rearrange sand and tide shift in rhythmic response to a calling beyond
the full moon atop its seat of power swallows you whole with its queer gaze
the city traps you in liquid concrete and rushes you into the void
green fire replaces the rain dripping pretentious through the summer haze
hollowed side of moon grey and quiet citadels commune in the language of dust
elancharan gunasekaran 