Just Reinventing Moments

Screen Shot 08-03-15 at 09.42 PM

We, it’s we, we are the torn soul
Of an ugly urban neighbourhood at dusk
We have become stars and moths
The moths of stars, hardly ready

To slant light around till fruit
We are windows of yellow butter
Women leaning to catch children
We breed for brittle moments

And run and let the stars rise
We let the moths flutter
And we taste the baked apples sweeter in the dark
Is this all we are,
Trivial open buds ready to
Ginger our colors like flavours of forever

Forever repeating in ripe bodies
Ready to be taken, age and die
We are moments never realized
Cities never truly young
Cultures always debating
The meaning of dawns, time, orchids.

3 thoughts on “Just Reinventing Moments

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