Splitting...

...like hearts part on the thin line of wagah,
my world-venn
makes the shape of an exploded pie,
splits into two,
and with 'magnetic' repulsion,
one inches away from the other.

now,
there's more than just one world i live in,
and now,
there's more than one end to me!

Of what is...that wont be!

I'd like to tell you a story.

Its about the land in the moon's white nest
where I dont know what happens.

But in there is a dream
that you should dream
with colour
that white can split into
before

-making the black in the night,
-shrinking into that silvery crescent on a non full moon day,
-the hide and seek of birth during dusk,
-shimmering in mirror-like colourlessness above beach waters

just before
disappearing into the ambers of the morning heat.

In starry starry nights -
love it or hate it -
there's the story of a morning that will be
and the story of a night that soon wont...

With Me...

at times, there's a deep, hum,
a buzz,
of continuous silence

that decimates
stealthily,
sounds that reality inflicts upon you;

and with constant hammering like the knocking of an expectant someone,
the inmates of my throbbing ventricles,
surround
contain
cover
me with my droning silence.

Suddenly,
I'm only the sound
of me....