Circle of Mess

There was a stapled fuming rosette,
Across the pinned close-up snatches,
And an eroded silhouetting doorway
Of the brimless, riotous closet
Where you stood to receive my fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
A brisk wind has aroused the trees,
Gardening was never quite my thing,
I’m entrusting you with the orgasmic
Evaporation of water from the leaves
To usher in the austere, vivid fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
I swore I won’t scribble in my palm,
The letters always dissolve in my sweat,
It’s easier to forgive myself when I wrong,
To grab the other hand and just wait
For the conclusion of my poetry’s fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’ve walked the full circle.

Inside, inside,
Your flaws I can rue.
Inside, deep inside
The chaos is truth.

I’m messed in my head…
I don’t blame you…

Encircled by the mess of mistakes
I’m detached from you.

Inside,deep inside

The chaos is truth.