I used to be a kind soul
Now I am an eyesore
I used to be pink rose
fresh with lightness
Now I spread the dimness
Entrapped in darkness
Sharpening my thorns.

Strange
What dream
A man tries to catch
In broad day
As the world busily
Passes by him.

A fleeting glimpse I had of him
seated on a small slab napping.

Was the night harsh on him
as he lay on the floor
stinking with his toils
with no roof overhead
looking at an absurd firmament
hazily spangled with stars.

Was he weighing his life in starlight
counting rusted coins of losses
breathing heavily through the void
as darkness weighed him down.

Was he waiting for a sleep
that would ripen his dreams deep
reaching him to the farthest galaxy
where every objects were made
only for him

objects of riches and success
and then deeper beyond..
love, peace and happiness.

Maybe the night returned him no dream
and trying to make up
he sought the refuge of day.

Was I the man in the glimpse
I thought
with nothing but dreams
as I rode away into the day
to embrace what is destined!

~
Lift the veil from a grayscale morning. Vividly imagistic. An odalisque no more.

Her shape beneath the gown is a foreign land, a series of quiet revelations. Its pattern manifests as pinpricks of light perforating the shirred fabric of his heart.

The preponderance of dream in her eyes becomes a call and response evoking purely imaginary spaces. The contained chemistry is beautifully insular, monochromatic.

And there her lips. Into claustrophobic kiss. This lower register of love comes in unadorned, subtle colorings like the darkest part of night.

One thousand shades of gray.
One single light of white.
And everything merges in the night.
~