I am but a blot of ink
on a sea of paper
drinking wine
feeling fine
I feel the margins
pulling closer
a delicious harmony
of falsettos
forcing me to fall
off the page
like Sirens calling
sailors to their wet doom
So I am cursed to remain
trapped between the calluses
of love and liquor
and liquor and love
Until someone non reptilian
spares me a second glance
Life isn't a box of what if's
Perhaps its a tug of war
between the forces in the light
and those in the gloom.
-Ridhwan
