If I say I want to dust away the stars
From the sky
And make clusters of pillows
Will your eyes be the same
Looking into mine ?

And if I tell you that it’s not the green
I see
In the leaves
And that they draw me in
When I go too close
Will you continue to smile
Without wavering ?

I may seem like a dislodged space
Between two shapes
And the frills you see
Are not my own
The print is made of thrusting oceans
That have refused to go back
In search of shores

What of my hair ?
It may seem too tame
Inside a knot
But you never see me
Alone by myself
When I free it from confined frames
How they tumble down
And wrap the mountains
You will not find me then
There will be no trace of me

c.r. Malintha Perera 2015


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