gentle persuasion an assault,quiet understanding reeking of decay,fatigued under this skin in which I must stay.
Dreams of moulting,shedding the hubris of crafty words,flushing away all famished rhymes,ripping the fibres of an ink-stained past.
Knowing.
Always knowing,
that honey-soaked kisses, seem destined,breathlessly,never to last.
-----
Afzal Moolla was born in Delhi, India while his parents were in exile, fleeing Apartheid South Africa. He then travelled wherever his parent's work took them and he still feels that he hasn't stopped travelling. Afzal works and lives in Johannesburg, South Africa and shares his literary musings with his most strident critic - his 12 year old cat.
1 comment:
The last line makes me ponder... I love this verse. :)
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