Brood

Image by JL G from Pixabay

Steamed cake burns
in the crock pot,
Who likes burnt cakes?
a gentle invisible voice
strokes his senses back,
soiled memory
weeps unseen,
her weeping heels make
pitch perfect moves

Back out, his hefty
soul aspires,
his heart relentlessly
reckons the days
spend together,
his mind fiddles her
chime of laughs,
life drifts between
her deep blue eyes
and the crimson days

Will you sleep in my lap
one more time?
his burning words
hit the cold air
Peace, his piece of soul pinched

Cake is out of the crock pot
Smells delicious, her voice
ringed the drum of
his ears in the
lonely silent room

Make a wish, this time
make a wish for me,
he prayed steadfast,
make a wish to connect
my weary soul to
your divine soul.

©Anisesh 2019

Thanks to Vaishali Paliwal and team.