Yawn

I am whisking this coffee,
In this this white cup, whisk

Whisking, whisking, whisk

Something is happening to 

It, its colour is changing, its

Form is changing, a smell is

Waft, waft, wafting, if I pour

Water in this, this, this, will

It become night-coloured? 

No, it becomes the dusk, and

I gulp it, gulp not sip, I gulp

This coffee-smelling sweet

Honeyed dusk, will, will, will

I wake now, will I blitz kreig,

What the word, yeah, carved 

Dime, no, will, will, will I 

I carpe diem, well, I do not, I

Still sit a pile of brood, steam

Wafting from me, upwardssss

Words up, pup, up, up weirdz

Upwardz

zzzzz

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 24 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo