May Torrents

The night is hardly young anymore
diverting  the westlands eastward
to avoid a new spring storm
I am,
scribbling down my feeble relief,
on a rear window on a way home;
Not looking back, just counting my footprints,
lost in an unwelcome shower of raindrops.
we postpone then pose a new breed of floods
in a selfie of endless don’ts.

Too many shoes to walk in.
The hazel looks are too plain to notice.
Everything I felt has been used against me.
Everything I am has already been killed.
By drowning.

The wheel of faith circles around a Schindler’s list
of mundane mustn’ts under the cuddling clouds
Threatening us both, born the same year,
divided by seasons
and their grounded exponential frowns
each wrapped inside
a few duly principles and blah-blah platitudes,
right next to the life boats.
The last naïve romantics-
inhabiting these proud outskirts-
Calm down their fever with four-leaved clovers.
In their raincoats, I’d rather multiply this hope,
Though- for a rescue

We all need an extension, it’s certified.

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