Wednesday, 11 November 2015


It fascinates me
How a black pencil
And powder
Blurs out the edges
Of you
And how
Using brushes
And borrowed gloss
And sparkle
You keep the chisel
Sharp and blunt
And the hammer
Is struck with vengeance
To thaw all naysayers
And wrong wishers
Your youth, fading
Into a perfect circle
And you keep erasing
Till you remove
And then it becomes
Clear, like your second
Skin, ironed out
Spread like a brand
New carpet
How easy it is
For you to brush
Aside, like a crooked jigsaw
Piece, a tiny
That seems
Out of place

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