Skin, like scratches condense into sickening winter, like the little water drops thrown out of dense space breaking webbed Siberian ...

How difficult it is to just wake up in the middle of it all Staring and lost without knowing what it takes, or how it slept lately in the...

There was time to cross my sleep, the numbness, the ripple, the winds, the dance, the moist in the deep. I have known to shrink before I...

Brushes of thoughts and sculptures of pain there's dreams of the living beside that old mark in your brain I got palms humid like dying...

Twilights fall free fast in September. Autumnal mornings spent between dark curtains , sleepy, vexed and soundless. Still on silenced...

To move between forest alleys is fun. Knowing that hours darken before monsoon winds sink in with the grey. Of their hearts. Or say,...

Hunting hunted there are dreams that feel like folded pages of a lost book which needed re-reading. Bold letters that I messed up with...

The last night when I walked on the cobbled lane, it rained again. I knew it's time. Things look old often when they bleakly begin. On...

This year, again, I fancied looking beyond the dustshowers. The red from rear of the traffic, the clammy hint of moisture on the...

There is nothing more tiring than being tired of oneself. Of doing it right and yet doing it wrong. Of moving out and putting it back...

There are nights that are patiently visible. On terrace roofs ,in clinging gates. Elbows sticking out wide. Uncluttered poise. Soaked...

To begin before things end, to look up and let loose trail upon years now and rehear shivaree of those days I have safely bracketted into...

Summers have long days, for you to lay back on the bed and snort emptiness from the hour glass. The contemplative contour of the street...

They say about the idea of life, of polis and police of law and language, of muthos and telos; Of seeds that speak, of violence that...

These days are heavy, of rains and red skies I turn out boxes, trade on colours, take in bouts under lone footlights. There's so much to...

The breeze floats beyond the gilt and whispers interludes that spread nought when you , unawares, seep in her blushing ambiguities or his...

Wheeling in senses through short breaths of calm, time warps and calls divide when your pitch of intelligence unknowingly frames life...

On a crowded rally of a pandemic where I had chosen to hide and miss the blow and shelve morning news like yoga-asanas with a toss, round...

Bid the glass empty. While you drop your drink. Within turns in love, hate and apathy over a wrong text at midnight or between rude...

There's the drizzle that relieved the forests today. Ranciere's forest of symbols. An artwork of draining ties. I blank down my laptop...