State of Aggregation

a self portrait with a touch of surrealism

I have seen too many butterflies dying

before getting awake

from their chrysalis

programmed porcelain ballerinas

whirling on one foot tables

in the absence of public

 

only my hands have a scent of laurel

words are still tender

like frozen buds

there’s neither wind to knock them

nor sunlight to open them

 

I got numb on my heart’s side

half air half water

my body is a hungry amphibian

between two geospheres

a thinner well wheel

draws me in and out

 

the old watchmaker

has repaired the mirror pendulum

now it is silent

Author's Note

It is a "silent reflection"
It has inside an allusion to Daphne's legend.