Imperfection
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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I hover over your words
not for perfections.
don't paint me an azure sky
cotton clouds
a field of sunflower
gold crests of afternoon waves
dark labyrinths
inner demons
or even angel faeries
for my life of half drawn images
half digested joys
faintly lit phantoms
rough edge
rugged walkway
write me out
a flawed poem
imperfected to the hilt
no structure
no style
wild jots of your thoughts
just like you and me
flawed but heavenly!
Bu şiiri puanla
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