
I tread softly
in your world
mindful of my footsteps
on the fragile glass
of your emotions
fearing the crack
one little slip could cause
breaking my own heart
without blows
without words
in a silence
deeper than
death
© Neetu Malik
I see you will haggle over your wares
sell them to me for the price I ask
I know you have many gods
little and large, in stock
Shall we dip our brush
in the deep blue dusk
so we may paint joy
we stole from
the passing day
before it grows dark?
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart—
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