It’s twenty years now that I’ve been sozzled
and living dipped in dizzy grace and shadows.
And soberness is like an ocean tossed off,
that I would cut across by camel.
My blood was more exquisite than pomegranate juice,
My name was just a pair of fondled letters.
And by the weights for rhymes I stood, a chemist
that mixes artistry with poison.
I heeled the droning bees, all sick with honey,
and then delivered cells to the monastics.
Dawn found me locked in a transparent couplet
All soaked in daze and element’s aroma.
I did not say a word - just breathing like a baby
at breast that’s overfilled and milky,
much like a frail and tender vine in waiting,
eager to sprout its leaves and tendrils.
This world is not a cup, nor is it beverage.
And like a snail I’d crawl towards the summit.
And by my mouth – a shiny necklace
would speak to me in silver voice.
This talking I should memorize in all its details...
So that tonight, when rendered speechless,
silence could shiver dying off in such a manner
that at a long way off to spread its voice.