Photographer: James Jordan
Name: Autumn Dawn
The steps speaking a ‘crisp’ december,
each time —
the sole taps on his slumber.
I live in the mid projectiles —
as those are dreams
They halt at the vendor of pre-spring —
selling open eyes to witness colours.
I buy a pair
as those are birth
Between ‘who’ and ‘why’
the pane glass splits into a thousand crystals
as ice cubes on an emptied glass
of whiskeyed nights.
as vivid lights on the screen
of a dressing mirror.
as dawn on my face.
I wake to see a reflected ‘you’
from romance to memories
to my ‘rebirth’.
The beeps heard of
‘Hey love! Wish you a happy valentine’
Accumulating the scattered in my hand,
pleading the Sun in my palm,
I say —
“See! your guy is wanted
That’s why I keep on saying ‘stay’.”
In comes the second beep
“I am on my way and I will…”