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Miki mbizii
Attended Holy Angels' Convent
Lives in Bangalore
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Miki mbizii

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Interlude
The day's grind was cut short by an unexpected half-day holiday. They were spending the few, snatched hours lounging on a creaking cot. Bleary-eyed from work, hands cold from dish soap, feet sandpaperish catching at the blanket fuzz, skulls clogged in sinus...
The day's grind was cut short by an unexpected half-day holiday. They were spending the few, snatched hours lounging on a creaking cot. Bleary-eyed from work, hands cold from dish soap, feet sandpaperish catching at the blank...
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Miki mbizii

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Once Upon a Park
The uniform, dead colour of the cubicle dissolves as sleep brims and stumbles from my eyes. Little hints of gradations, tiny whirls of mauve and green appear - the colours of undulating vistas seen in timeworn photographs. With the suddenness of very old me...
The uniform, dead colour of the cubicle dissolves as sleep brims and stumbles from my eyes. Little hints of gradations, tiny whirls of mauve and green appear - the colours of undulating vistas seen in timeworn photographs. Wi...
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**
Dawn despairs, when every tiny grainy, pixelated little atom of my ‘perhapses’ become heavy dead lakes. Leaf-littered surface hiding eyeless corpses and petrified faunae. Terrified intakes of the limpid, indigo star-frosted dawn air, fumble under the pillow...
Dawn despairs, when every tiny grainy, pixelated little atom of my ‘perhapses’ become heavy dead lakes. Leaf-littered surface hiding eyeless corpses and petrified faunae. Terrified intakes of the limpid, indigo star-frosted d...
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For You. My Adored Fragments.
All at once the hazes, shadows and silhouettes became tangible bodies. An abstraction of conversations, brief flickers and surreal telepathy turned into real voices, nuances, corporeal inflections, juxtapositions.  We became palpable. A diffusion of clouds ...
All at once the hazes, shadows and silhouettes became tangible bodies. An abstraction of conversations, brief flickers and surreal telepathy turned into real voices, nuances, corporeal inflections, juxtapositions. We became ...
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From the Corner of My Deluding Eye
 Sometimes
it is coffee, dark as the residue of unremembered nightmares lingering
on the underside of lashes. Sometimes it is insomnia, like dead
satellites etched on skin - dead, grey, hollow. Each with its own
terrible echo. Sometimes it is that carou...
Sometimes it is coffee, dark as the residue of unremembered nightmares lingering on the underside of lashes. Sometimes it is insomnia, like dead satellites etched on skin - dead, grey, hollow. Each with its own terrible echo...
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Mind
Mind
is a corridor – dark, dank, desolate; in the deep stillness of the
night an indistinct stir.. The songs whistle through in wavering
crescendo until they find their nooks to sit, fluff and fold their wings
and sleep. Mind has its despairing dead end...
Mind is a corridor – dark, dank, desolate; in the deep stillness of the night an indistinct stir.. The songs whistle through in wavering crescendo until they find their nooks to sit, fluff and fold their wings and sleep. Mind...
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Have her in circles
50 people
Indrani Paul's profile photo
Meriem Saidani's profile photo
Abdul Kabir's profile photo
Arathi Kannan's profile photo
Anwita Ghosh's profile photo
Rony dk's profile photo
Babu Anvar's profile photo
Christopher DSouza's profile photo
rushalini rajkumar's profile photo

Miki mbizii

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Honey
Honey- crumb-soaker, jar emblazer, striking tongue in octaves- the lurid mirth of dead flowers, ectoplasm of a million bee-ghosts- purged, quintessenced. Honey, a fumbling fugue fragrance of untold summers distilled- trickling away, syllable by syllable, pr...
Honey- crumb-soaker, jar emblazer, striking tongue in octaves- the lurid mirth of dead flowers, ectoplasm of a million bee-ghosts- purged, quintessenced. Honey, a fumbling fugue fragrance of untold summers distilled- tricklin...
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Miki mbizii

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Marriage
The refrigerator hums our story- while we chase the strange thing flapping in our ribs. old crows walk over our eyes at night, leaving footprints on the moist sands. We see ourselves in nightmares- our expressions unfurling full-blown bubble gums- saliva-sc...
The refrigerator hums our story- while we chase the strange thing flapping in our ribs. old crows walk over our eyes at night, leaving footprints on the moist sands. We see ourselves in nightmares- our expressions unfurling f...
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Miki mbizii

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Discordance
Shed phantom leaves, barely-there prickle of an imagined line. Veins bird-songed through, poem-space in bus tickets. Fever spill, a pondering- sleep spoons seas into eyelids, see threads knotting quiver and quiver. We understood through lung-pauses, long gu...
Shed phantom leaves, barely-there prickle of an imagined line. Veins bird-songed through, poem-space in bus tickets. Fever spill, a pondering- sleep spoons seas into eyelids, see threads knotting quiver and quiver. We underst...
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.
How do you define this? These broken birds clawing the spaces between bones, this pale roar re-vibrating through hollows in my words, this swelling landscape of unspokenness.
How do you define this? These broken birds clawing the spaces between bones, this pale roar re-vibrating through hollows in my words, this swelling landscape of unspokenness.
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Despair is a Thing with Claws
Despair is a thing with claws scratching across an asbestos roof; It is the unspittable grind between molars- root cackling against gum a sandpaper chewed to death (Take deep breaths? PAH!) Despair is the screams painted on gritty sockets, Deafeningly silen...
Despair is a thing with claws scratching across an asbestos roof; It is the unspittable grind between molars- root cackling against gum a sandpaper chewed to death (Take deep breaths? PAH!) Despair is the screams painted on g...
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Laundry Day
There is something so apologetic about drying clothes. Confessional; trembling shucks dripping transparent blood- turned inside-out, all secret tucks and patch-ups bared- stench of a day's routine evaporating; sun-hued ghosts -stitches silhouetted. This, do...
There is something so apologetic about drying clothes. Confessional; trembling shucks dripping transparent blood- turned inside-out, all secret tucks and patch-ups bared- stench of a day's routine evaporating; sun-hued ghosts...
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People
Have her in circles
50 people
Indrani Paul's profile photo
Meriem Saidani's profile photo
Abdul Kabir's profile photo
Arathi Kannan's profile photo
Anwita Ghosh's profile photo
Rony dk's profile photo
Babu Anvar's profile photo
Christopher DSouza's profile photo
rushalini rajkumar's profile photo
Work
Employment
  • Content Writer/Poet
Places
Map of the places this user has livedMap of the places this user has livedMap of the places this user has lived
Currently
Bangalore
Story
Tagline
An angel-headed hipster
Education
  • Holy Angels' Convent
Basic Information
Gender
Female