Read Time:1 Minute, 31 Second
the teeth beneath your skin cadge to chew the thumb of your veins; a heartbeat is a bell sound of the apocalypse. you are a cashier of flowers, your palms cajole your stomach to sing the music of bomb blasts. on this soil, the peace is a cadaver of roses. your only way of narrating these stories is by reflecting grief on the face of flames. everything beautiful is jailed. thought, not like a coconut. in search of a tug of war, you blindfold the sky. like a cabbage. like a seed. like a fold of clothes beneath the loin. nothing marches the universe of wildfire like a tongue of stones. it defines apathy in a choking silence; taking fear into the smiles of time & twisting the ashes into the screw. you eyed a drowning boy; he mourns, travelling under the mother's pillow. I tell you, cries voyage in the storm, & life in the cycle of grief. so now tell me, how do you dissolve a question into an answer?