Allotropic modification

My lungs are one large, deflated balloon,

sitting somewhere in the lost chair.

I grew  branchiae instead.


You perfectly fit to this porous body,

viscous in masculine, bogus, warm-heartedness.


My shoulders carry dark cloud,

exercising lifting of heavy thoughts.


I know I’m cute, but can’t offer you a smile.

Maybe an open umbrella?


You are amorphously

voiceless, unbroken:

chameleon of the day.


Maja S. Todorovic


8 thoughts on “Allotropic modification

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