Thursday, October 11, 2012

no wonder i cannot sleep…

from my dreamy head on the pillow, stars go spinning out to the sky
sometimes the silly moon too presses his face against my window,
stealing a glance at as I sleep,
bathing the room in gentle light,
leaving telltale marks all over
(I scrub them in the morning)

the crystal dangling next to the glass, wrestles, plays with the wind,
sometimes I hear them whisper, in hushed tones
secrets they will not tell me
and parijat, a thousand of them, open up to the moon
tiny white hands, can never hold their own fragrance, it spills all over the lawn

the night is so noisy this season…

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