red vines pop against walls,
unspin themselves
off gravity, then falter
like a pair of pin-hole eyes.
she wears her scars agape-
an unmoored Arachne- spins
metamorphosis down her
dystopic limbs.
this march is cold.
clouds wilt with grace.
i feed on a carcass of air.
©Mohana Das
Photo: Deconstructing the spiral
insanebloom 
Very interesting poem–so interesting to think of the vines in that spider form, weaving, and the air itself left over. k.
I’m actually intrigued by this abstract ~ I specially like the wearing of scars agape & clouds wilting with grace ~ Sharp imagery in your short verses ~
Thanks for participating & wishing you Happy Week ~
a carcass of air..heck.. that’s an image that will stick with me for a bit..
wears the scars agape….that whole stanza in this is very nice…
nice use of language….
To feed on carcass of air.. So stifling – like a fish on shore..
Stunning images, Mohana, and the verbs you chose really give life to the poem.
A unique take on the month of March….month of serious winter countered with hope of spring….interesting red vines, all.
hi, liked the tone , the imagery , everything, good going Mohana.
Very nice
Its good to find a friend here. Amazing poetry Mohana
Thanks!!! 🙂
brilliant one!