Awais Aftab

Her lips are a frozen Banshee wail,
A fragile histology of ice.
They won't survive a kiss:
The thermocoagulation of desire.
You would taste the foreshadowing;
Something is about to die.


damn, this just stabbed me somewhere.
Aditi Yadav said…
in the murmur and in the eyes
everyday a little dies.