Mihir Rajamane

Month: July 2016

  • fluid

    She came down slowly, warily, tiptoeing through the chambers of gravity like an old feather, pulled away from her roots; she scalded me with her caress, her fiery arms clashing against my burning caramel skin, turn- ing it bitter and dark like ash: ashes float away from my palms, riding on the backs of heralds →

  • Clock River

    Inky black hands point guns at my heart and  It obliges, beating, chasing the flow of the river In deluge, calling out in despair to the clammy Midnight sky that settles down in a thick cloud Of burnt flakes of eggplant skin, depositing its Grimy, pungent smell into my nares, sending Ripples of warning and →