The Noose

Standard

cloistered jars of pickles and sweets

ferment in fury behind the doors ajar,

festooning you with an impulse to peep

the froth and fumes of constricted love

 

strenuous breaths with sneeze and cough

scent of flowers congests your nostrils,

mouth-breathing the glory of the days gone

you question my mournful mouldering

 

as if nothing happened…

 

©Written Frames, 2018

Freedom in love makes you fall in love with chains and shackles of it, willingly!