untitled

the dew falls upon my head
i want to get to your eyes
mud on my shoes - how i want to get there quickly

this monsoon is yet to kill the fire inside me
but your absence fades the colour of my soul
and fades the blood of my words

i walk this dawn on my own
i’d like to smoke my heart out
what’s my defense when fictions no longer cure

your eyes – oh how i want to get there quickly
not that i know what they’re like or what they do
it’s just that this darkness violently leads me to you

5 may 2010