A Woman’s Breasts

## Mountains, story tellers On their own merit Pinched by deciduous teeth And suckled by the softest lip They stand alone and apart Connecting the dots Of an inter-generational-symbiosis Renaturing the cut-halves Of the umbilical cord To a moment that in aloneness Transcends the beauty Of a playmaker, transformed to A fountain of supreme giving….


She was an artist in the making The abstract eye could travel to galactic spaces Which no astronomer even with a telescope could witness She was the darling of the endeared A woman as stubborn as the dream that defined her – To be an artist in the isle of Serendib. And the untimely, unhinged…