impact of the moon

The scented season of love abides at the vanguard

Of the enthralling journey that continues apace

In your hands perfumed with clay and cornbread

The accented bliss impregnating each interstice

Of the the apocalyptic night

Of tardy convalesce and quietus

When the breath is held captive

To the glancing mention of beloved

Underneath the piercing impact of the powerful moon

Obliterating every trace of existence

The post is written in response to worlds 471 hosted by The Sunday Whirl


Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is the mother of two lovely kids and hails from northeastern India. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures along with her kids trying new recipes or crafting. She describes herself as -- a soulmate, a life alighted on the earth catching the rhythm passing by her. A tinge of joy colours her world and lays its feet on the land where revellers are awaiting her to get into the groove.

4 thoughts on “impact of the moon

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