Last Night A Poet Saved My Life

/, Blesok no. 70/Last Night A Poet Saved My Life

Last Night A Poet Saved My Life

Stories from the Shoormal
The Last Waltz
The Weight
Blood Season (4)
The True Bear Tale (Stockholm, 2001)
Last Night A Poet Saved My Life
Smoke Wings
In Between Days


A heavy stringed intro,
a dress laced with a melancholic trim,
faltering steps in ill-fitting shoes.
I am not used to dancing backwards:
you lead, I follow, not
matching your surefootedness.

Let me be the one to say it:
Un-break the charm,
recant the spell,
un-drink the potion,
claw back the days.
We are out of time.


We come into life
reeling towards the last waltz
and with each revolution
I come closer, a whirling dervish:
ecstatic and blissful
in the not knowing.

AuthorRaman Mundair
2018-08-21T17:22:55+00:00 February 14th, 2010|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 70|0 Comments