Interludes

Lilies on my windowsill


In the silences 
of
The late morning 
And of 
The stupor of the afternoon
Or even of 
The twilight made purple 
by a swollen moon 
I cease to be flesh and skin
I cease to exist within
And become

Just the breath -
A puff of air

Caught between
the tick and the tock

Caught between
the falling petals 
of 
the fragrant lily

Caught between
the rustling pages 
of 
my unfinished book

Caught between
the beating wings 
of 
the fly ricocheting in the lamp shade

Caught between
the curls 
of 
the smouldering incense

And then
There’s the knock on the door

And I become flesh and skin once more

 ©Sumana Khan - 2014

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