your breath on my cheek,
as I hold you close to me,
silken infancy
it was the breeze, or
maybe the brush of your touch,
long lost, yet with me
father holds my hand
between life and death, an ache
forged in memory
©Neetu Malik
a nip in the air
swirling to my feet
one blushing leaf
soft murmurs in the dark
don’t enlighten me
they leave me fumbling
for something real to grasp
The marbles roll
on a patch of dirt–
colored transparencies
shine in the afternoon sun.
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More info →Shared blood defines a family, but spilled blood can too.
More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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