Polish

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Imperfections refined

from sections

of misconceptions

Into

realms

resonating

in the absence

of insecurities

As reflections

becomeĀ easier

to look back at

in the presence

of everything we weren’t

Until

the

polish

runs

out

And we are.

 

Ā© Hudson Biko

Photograph byĀ Brunel Johnson

Survive

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You feel it in the air sometimes

lingering

in its repetition

In its own rendition

ofĀ the sound

made by

swarms

of bees

Buzzing

In hives

thatĀ survive

the strands

of time

In time

Still stinging

and ringing

In metaphorical ears

that even after

all these years

Still

kinda

sound the same

Still

kinda

feel the same

Maybe slightly kinder

to ears

less fragile

after years

of buzzing

But the stings

never heal

No,

those ones stay

Those ones

linger

Morphing into

what we try

to be

Those ones

become

our own rendition

of the bee

that once stung

And maybe that’s all we ever really needed

Maybe that’s our buzz

 

Ā© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Annie Spratt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Adrift

Chests congested

by the repercussions

of actions

rather taken

back

As stacks,

racks

and blankets

of past events

blanket

shivering

skin

Lingering

in their obscurity

Reminding us

of their solidity

;

Leaving usĀ Adrift.

AmongstĀ bumps

we call goosebumps

:

Shivering.

 

Ā© Hudson Biko

 

 

Collaboration

We watched as random turned into linear.

As we realized

that we could never loom

together chemistry

orĀ see

what loomed behind

the walls and blinds

that bound us together,

As we realized that echoes

and shadows

are only reflections

of ourselves

:

Shadows we tried to set light on.

But reflections

are reiterations

that never truly disappear.

they loom behind

walls and blinds

:

Blinding us

in their chemistry.

 

Ā© Hudson Biko

Inspired by theĀ Daily Prompt: Collaboration

Bound

AndĀ after all of this

we found

ourselves

bound

to

temporary

moments

escaping

into

scents

of reminiscence.

 

Ā© Hudson Biko