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May 20, 2024


By Sanjeev Sethi


In bunglesome moments I unspool braids
of our bloom coiled in an attic of our mak-
ing. Subito your inscape attaches itself to
mine. From this seam emerges melic tunes.
My self-serious temper overdubs these into
prosodic entries. The bliss of divvying up
with one's leitmotif has its beat. It bolsters
self-admiration: donnée for another distich.

Article © Sanjeev Sethi. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-10-07
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
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