Violoncello of Fire

Written by Tanya Singh

The bullet melted in my throat as they shot the arrow,

Trespassing my guts and liver, tearing me asunder,

The intestines share the rhyming scheme as ‘abcacab’

And we were weak like the kite in face of the cataclysm,

 

Threads em-mesh like golden rhymes asleep on a prairie,

in the lumber of absence of stranger manuals to guide,

the process of untangling, mating of the cello and violin,

 

The bullet in our hearts melted into arson,

 

And then, there was fire inside.

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