Have you ever noticed,
the ostracized veins in the ground?
Pumping blood under the delicate layer,
of a dry leaf,
Glorious jabs, injected deep down below our feet,
shattering the ground as they pile its yields
in mountains,
and fume them up into the air.
Yellow pearls that shine like trembling candles
in the open air.
A belittled gift, dumped in a garbage can,
unseen and forgotten amidst the stumps of mud.
But your smile is still wide like an extended accordion
while their hands soiled in the ground
are gathering forbidden fruits.
Scenes observed behind the glass,
for things that should not be,
A ghost love is lying in a lost letter inside a box,
cornered under a spider nest,
that guards it like a treasure.
It’s a body that vanished in a split second
under a feeble touch,
that turned the future into a broken promise,
And I only stand by, watching it as an observer,
in a faraway land.
