Songs of the Dead – Countercurrents

Abandoned, forgotten passwords, we will be buried and burnt. Or replaced. Our laughter stripped of its sound bytes will freeze in frames. Our conversations will loiter in the marketplaces of lost cities Their wise songs have gone, dashed against cliffs. Wiping off dewdrops from grass lips, the day stretches. Its grayness splits. A bird sings from a branch. Both are[Read More…]

Source: Songs of the Dead – Countercurrents

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