our face a white cloud          through a fog

white sands                sea frothing  

like a gaping mouth

 a flag of surrender     white fog

face in the cloud         a sea of sand

churn               white as you whip

your rage into a frenzy  

and scream your         outrage            

blood beads                on your gaping mouth

reading your lips

the trained actor you are

how long will you hold the pose?

we stand on the rim of a spiral

our paralysis awaiting the push

now that the moon has lost its way

something resembling a dark night is afoot

the rope tied itself into a familiar knot

…
Naveen Kishore, publisher Seagull Books and photographer.