The cupidity of cracking bones
for the Psalm of celestial blooms

crushed underneath the lids of a mountain,
branching out sinews
of souvenirs

Cadavers of Canaries
birthing night-sodden bones
dripping with moreish liquor

A sine qua non for rhythmic forays
of blooms
Leaping lightly
Engulfing the cerulean chasm

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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.

One thought on “blooms

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