Thursday, March 5, 2009


It began with a drizzle
We try to sight the moon
Our mini-panek held gingerely with printed joypur
Near the fire of dried straw crackling up the evening sky
The yellowed mass of an afternoon's effort
billowing into the thin air
Tinging the evening with blue smoke

The aftermath four days
Succumbing into riots of colours and assault
Creeping beneath skin
Bluish bruises of transgression
Trespassing my innocence

Water pistols resembling giant member
Sprinkling hues of spring
Droplets streaming from my palm towards my elbow
Drenched coloured clothes clinged on
Tearing them from my body
I found my skin stained a nameless hue

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