Prosetry

Air – Harika Kottakota

I am captured in limbo
This air, a cotton-ball touch,
Dabs my arid skin
This peculiar air fights back
And strums my ego
Like a decrepit bass
Whisps of voices ricochet,
Hollow my veins,
Until I am left gnawing
On icicles for warmth,
An incurable insomniac
Clutching a snuffed candle
As I dig for phoenix feathers
Amid Winter’s roars
As this clement air
Ignites me in white flames
Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s