Blue, cradle

In my cradle, I would blabber

the moon would come and say, “Why says, why says my child?”

I would howl to gather around me a few,

they would disappear, the moon would rise.

With the sky boiling around me, I sleep

The dense blue runs through my body

My cerulean eyes, my cerulean eyelids

unite,

as my body dissolves in the sky.

In my cradle, I blabber

the moon, watches me and weeps.

She hides herself in the azure

the moon has given to the cradle, her child.

Shringi

0ctober 19, 2011