PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Strangly enough― 
it was the most silent night… 
I hear the footfalls 
of your absence. 

There was no affair 
between you and me. Only the flames 
of frost I was born with. Blue 
roses still keep a ritual 
of counting the deaths. 

I didn't touch you. The 
placenta still dragging the neon 
light of the womb, the 
sins lay bare. 

The land mines exploding 
one by one. Maimed truths speak 
of the communion 
with unseen gods, who will not come out 
in the courtyard.