Micropoetry
Streaming
realities
In the nights we tremble,
clutching them the knees together,
but in the lights — lime
we swell, beaming the best
of our berated selves up.
Shunned by the heart
so dead and cold,
abandoned by arms, often
delirious — tongues tied, to mics
oblivious to harm — mortal ‘n grim.
Oh, but the eyes — eyes do lie, too!
Beautiful! The illusions —
of my eye, the third.
Sentiments, stirred.
In the haste of it all — or is that all?
The legs would have walked,
away — if they could,
off to shared shores of
a world — in another’s realm,
breathing in, sighs — all but blithe ‘n blunt!
Viraji Ogodapola ©April, 2024