The Melting Shades

Incomplete full stops. Commas sans a pause.

Not here. But to escape.

Muffled breath that reeks of the time past,

Was it yesterday that we painted the canvas at eventide?

Searching the void in those eyes.  A maze.

Not here. But to escape.

Like a nib kisses the dotted line,

Perhaps to attempt an ode to its previous lovers?

Lie flat on straw mats.  Swelter then wilt.

Not here. But to escape.

Reeds bite into the flesh of morrow,

Are the shades melting to dye the yarn in ombre colors?

These pictures were shot in a matter of five minutes during Lakme Fashion Week.

On another note, the past month has taught me lessons about unselfish love, pride, temporal ties, achievement, frailty of blood as a bond, success, dependence and loss. And like most of life’s stories, these lessons, like chapters of an old cherished novel are best when devoured in proportions.