I drop the words

Into my hands,

Roll the syllables

Through my fingers

To feel their viscosity.

The raw taste of blood

Lingers along the consonant’s

Sharp tang, bitter, yet

Desperate to be devoured.

I hunger for questions,

Which will provide

A key, a new translation,

To open a door

Through this emptiness.


(December 18, 2017)


  1. subtextures says:

    Thanks, I’m glad you liked it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Azka Ali says:

    Beautiful 💕


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