Poetry

Bloom

Burning up and down
Like the highest peak can’t be touched down
My dolce et petition
My sweetest devotion
Cracked open
I made my religion break open
Through cracks and bones
Amongst midnights and alleyed bones
Little fragile heart at my doorstep
Visiting my underworld stairway
My heavenly coldness
Crowns in my living room way
The porched open house
Little graffiti artistic pursuit
Of my hotspot on the opened door
Aside from the bottom line
Made my phone book worthy
Like living waters
The transperent ghost
My front porched open window
Burning lilies hanging open
My superbloom my resilient religion.
                                            
~Sayani Mukherjee
India

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