I'm dreaming up a place now- flat stone and a sea like glass and a window on the sea. The living won't find it, and the dead won't come. And when it rains the air is greyer than daylight in a madman's mind. No caskets here to smother a mindful of slights.. let them slide, frail and naked into the light.

I think I am a rainbow in a private sky. I'd break in the eye of your sun.


(I'd make sense.
If you saw me through the prism of my mind.)

Love you all.
In a way..

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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