Posted in life, Poems, thoughts


Creased hands

and beads of sweat

brave upon the cliff of your brow,

haunt me.

I feel the memory of being shattered,

set free against a hazy sunset.

I am bound even now

by the razor bladed trailing of your lips


scorched in the radiation of your sorcery

sensation beyond words, born in me,


like a cancer,

its tendrils sweeping across my canvas,

nerves wrapped around nerves,

we were breath upon breath.




No longer the flushed minx,

The nephimp who dreamt a thousand worlds



nude against the desert of lonesome bone,

severed sinew from weary lungs ;

I cower,

cradle tremble in tremble,

stare some nights on moonlit vacancy,

the mirrored reflection of my abandoned land,

undulating flesh that once,

streaked with the grip of youth,

now lies fallow,

Void of knowing.




no longer the symphony of movement,

the voice that spoke out in a moment of submission



timid against the tundra of crisp melancholy,

blurred noises upon subtle vibrations;

I close,

fingertips that shelter faded roses.

I fall some nights in revelatory ravines

in which I see only fragments of mirages,

veiled realities with the odour of smoke and deception,

smudged with the trailing of innocent betrayal.

I lie fallow.

Void of knowing.

– Eva M.M.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts  with me. I love each and every one of you, my little ink angels.



I am the author of and am currently working on a book of poems. To find out more check out my about me page as well as my page about my blog and welcome to the ink angels community.

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