Thursday, 21 August 2014


Little girl
You don’t have to cut or heal
As the waves along the shore
Erode my feet.

Time is a passing thing
You don’t have to crack
Every mirror
As you stare at wishes
For an open window.

Don’t be a culprit
They always leave a mark
Of things to come.
Or whisper gently in my ears
“Find me when you wake.”

Change is just a yellow leaf
Falling to the ground.
And I, too, turn into you
As the summer sun
Brings back colour
To both your eyes.

Your body is but a burning flame
Why don’t you just
Keep dancing
As you put on your clothes
Do it slow.