Yearning
I glisten in tears
like an April dawn,
covered in dew
like blades of grass,
whispering notes
like softly falling raindrops,
I call your name
like one who is lost –
listen achingly for the sound
of your answering call.
© Neetu Malik
The streets of Seville keep
their best secrets hidden in the dark
I try
to find words for war
how it wrecks, how it feels
but
there is no language I find
to reach
I will weave you garlands
of dazzling wisteria
twine the flowers , , ,
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