A heart can lie

Flip sides of the ventricles throw away all its precious veins  suck blood undo all the sweetness  in combustion, oxygen-free. Short of breath. Turn the pink flesh to roast chicken. And have no record of  softness in cloud, the teardrop pattern. In doing this, somewhere  words pierce the heart  and one dies. In this way someone in your life  talks out love and leave your company . This...

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On love and the line of scrimmage

Taken from Sunila Wila by Pushkara Wanniarachchi  Years ago , somewhere in December  I found a house seat in the indoor hall of Maharagama Youth Center. It rained butterflies that evening. 6.00 pm. There were a mass of people outside , crowded around the entrance. Many had to go back .I overheard  some one saying;  Tickets were over.  I managed to get a ticket, however with the help of a friend. On occasion...

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I - the Ex-citizen

I'm an ex-citizen of your heart barred from entry and of denied visa. Berlin Artparasites  But often I get home sick. How many blue waves do I have to tear up to sail back to you? Is it an iron made heart you got to become oblivion of me? Or did thoughts of love in your heart fall into extinct volcanoes...

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On going back to things you love

Pic source -Internet  There are three things that I would love to go back to . One , it would have been some where in the 1999’s , how Aththamma and I use to sit on a door step and read stories to each other and sing .There was no particular time for that. But often we did it after lunch. Second , Chandima Uncle , a far friend, relative of sorts , who took me for sea baths when I visited Tangalle during vacation. A childhood play...

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