‘Is it true, we can only love so much?’: Four poems by Kashiana Singh

Delighted!

Bengaluru Review

Mouthful of Cloudbursts

 Feather soft droplets, uncertain and fickle
Surprising sounds, glassy sheets of revival
Gushing in to announce a transparent arrival
Initiating an odorless ovation, trickle by trickle

Rooftops lay flat against a tiptoe dance
Hummingbirds listen transfixed, in pleasure
Flapping grief, into a euphoria of collapsing treasures
The wet night sings to darkened drapes, in a trance

Particular aroma of a lightning struck earth, engulfs all form
Undulating color draws patterns of seagull wings, dark sky
Desire ruptures itself, comatose beside leftover boxes of Thai
Heartbeats rescue each other, inhaling a moldy smell of the grass

Howling death sounds, drown raging kisses
Purple streaked canopy, plunging empty into black eyes
Crushing raindrops, into mocha keeps passion in disguise
Pittering and pattering, a pulsating remorse passes by

Soaking into its torrential depths
lusting between sunset and sunrise
Streams chant seductively to themselves
Breaking horizons, into a bellowing bronze

I inhale the petrichor…

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