Broken Cat Statue

The bathtub boils

With fire under,

The river takes a detour

To warm itself up

Agreed to massage my body

Purge my skin

And my soul.

Apas Akasha

In a cold spring day, 

With snowflakes pretenders

And gothic hills 

With skinny trees. 

Behind the smudging atmosphere 

The cat statue awaits 

For the final repair

To make her wear gold. 

Time melts into itself

And moments disappear, 

Reality is unaware

That space invented limits. 

Searching for meaning

Is same with giving it up, 

Same boring as lucidity

In the broken body

Of a statue cat.