I hear your songs through my skin
Too loud to be let in through ears
Too noisy, to sort out the rhythm
Too sharp, chiseled and bled the skin
Warm blood in a soft palette
Neither running nor static
Stuck in a fluidic jelliness
Pickled and preserved in ammonia
the smell of your sweat
the sweet screams of your throat
Stripping my memories bare
in the beaches of white light
Running too fast,
never reaching me
We both stuck in a wormhole
endless and an early exit
Play me your sweet music
by the shores with blue skies
Lurking in the depths of my mind
your too sweet silver lines
The music in the distorted voice
Giving away your songs for free
Finding true love in check shirts
Half cooked food
Too early for an inspection
Standing straight to be arrested
Tell my love, stories
comprehensible only to me
secrets in the corner, twists too obvious
hidden in the thickness of your lips
waiting to be spit out
green orange color
the silence of your dreams
Noise of your heartbreaks
How much water can you gulp down the passage of your heart?
Changing mood in trial rooms
Sweet too sweet sore
Poem by Akshaya Panicker
Illustration by Namrata Nirmal
Article 19 