Turmeric tinges madden the air
pollen-suffused, ghosts of unrecalled muses
slow swarming of bough-shivers
Twirl by twirl. Gathering. Becoming.
A thing alive, twig-knitted sky.
moth shadows speckle-
a petalous prose intermingling
the indolent unravelling of my breath- knots
bricks warmed in a centuries’ memories
a stair creaks, lights unwind, spill-
this euphoric innerness of being
languor fills brow in slow murmurs
under my skin, bees hum
a connectedness to distant nebulae
blood thrums into nectar,
I become a honey-comb
this unbearable lilting-
universe’s secret dance.