murmur of rumour

hear me out,

i said and

you made out what you did,

and repeated

when i was out of hearing.

am i  that important

to be talked about,

a topic of interest

or is it the scope to twist

and turn, space to shape, make out

with me that attracts the murmur

that i hear as i walk past,

the drone that rises never

to my level, when i can hear

but viciates the air

around me, drowning out

what i have to say.

say, can i talk or should i just

walk and hold my tongue?

my lips are pursed,

where did you find the space to explore

inside, carve out a space for yourself

and your thoughts

as fluted notes from my lips?

rum rumours, plum poison,

can i pass it up?

i don’t want to pass out, just yet.

embellish me not with chimes of rumours

from you, my chum,

i’m happy to be plain and

stay plateaued on my own plane.

ask me not what i think,

i think not, anymore,

i talk not, anymore,

i dare not, care as i do

about who i am

as defined by who you are.

are you saying

the rooftops are lying,

echoing, icicle-coating,

choking us up,

leaving no room for thawing?

About rashmenon

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This entry was posted in adult, emotions, friendship, moods, poetry, relationships, woman, yellow lens and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to murmur of rumour

  1. rashmenon says:

    @ andy, cynthia: 🙂 delighted 🙂

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