Bound – Bombay, March 2003

Secrets.

Word-ensconced eggshells,

Broken gently by my reading.

Traipsing over letter,

Unraveling an eden of emotion.

Rocked, baby-like, evenly

To and fro.

Letters.

Pregnant with you

Give me rebirth time and again,

And I have not a moment’s peace.

Like Cathy’s Heathcliff

Haunted is my every hour.

Walking in slumber, somnolent.

Never leave.

For I have been and am,

Bound.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. oolszimp says:

    love this. absolutely LOVE this.

    Like

  2. oolszimp says:

    you write what i feel.

    Like

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