A semi colon at its simplicity 
is an incomplete apology letter.
It never touches the yolk of a sun 
with extravagant stretches of metaphors.
So metaphors decided to replace 
the hiccups in the arc of my throat,
with a viper's venom in pockets, 
that has to be gifted to the 
suicide notes between my teeth.
When God kissed me in his kitchen 
he had found my teeth 
a perfect hiding place of luminous sins.
He was building a shelf for knives, 
to calculate the hardness of a father's heart.
Fathers are scientists observing 
the silly dance of tiny little frogs 
inside glass bottles on full moon days, and appreciate them to be daughters 
if they have no words.
Daughters with their weight of heart, challenges gravity and sometimes turn themselves into red apples that 
no Newton will pay attention to.
Apples with their blushed cheeks 
take small spaces to sit and grow, 
like a mother's happiness 
pure like marshmallows.
Mothers are cuckoo clocks 
with two hands, filling tea cups 
with deep sighs of unnoticed cruelties, 
they plan to male heirlooms of.
Sighs of a lover is a tree with 
it's roots in the air, so that the earth 
can seduce the sky in a romantic way.
The sky found the ocean after 
years of puddle jumping and 
wrote poems about the muscle memory 
of butterflies, which is as soft as 
the hand of a toy .
A poem rips off its nails and hammer 
passion in its place, turning into a small vulture of lies.  
This poem, thus gossips about a point 
and reach another circle, 
only to sleep under an orphaned shoe 
of a worm who don't know about gods.

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