dance of death and dew

weaving in and out of obscurity of midnight silence, mornings taste sweeter
the anonymity of his death, he died alone with old books, 
a stained scarf and shattered spectacles
in his pocket, ghosts in the attic, flecks of blood on the tablecloth
he was a collector
collector of myths and legends....
his greatest ... being her!

in the undertaker's shadow, dodging the moonlight
the vagrant thieves, destroy his research.... his papers... his legends
goodbye aphrodite!
... these days
when the pale pink skies talk to the moons of jupiter
lost among the clouds and constellations
amongst the fractured dreams and fragmented solace
in tune to the distant drums and floating melodies
that breathe and sigh in your ears, on to your soul
his innocence hums...
in the mist of the twilight
aphrodite rises...

'hello, my love.... shall we dance' 
Copyright © Neerja Yadav

1 comment:

Skip said...

This is gorgeous! Write more!