Liminal haunting

by Kevin Aditya

Absolute is time where people and
the hair they are twirling are a
chronic motion, with every dark
awaiting sunrise to uncover again
new pages of impermanence.

Dreary soul of a man, crumbling
beneath each muse unraveled
through apertures he withholds
to never shutter, of which his
words lie in a reverie ghost:

“Dally in yore, candied joy,
for the seeds of tender age
have flourished into one,
solitary tree where previous
mine disperse into solid
roots and you are none
but mirth nettling inside,

ever so austere.”


2 Comments to “Liminal haunting”

  1. sedih

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