Streetened dust
Cast in bones
Strange, hidden
Bitter, remains
Where reflections hang
Upon tungsten shards
Flashes of faraway frolic
A dreamy iris watches
Behind nose-pressed glass
Like a falling kite trapped
Whiffs appetise, famished, waits
Yellow fire, crimson smoke
Sprinkle salt, spices call
Whipped wounds on the side
Tossed and shaken
In a newspaper packet
Hate and hope
Served mint fresh
[July 27, 2014]
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