Indigo

There is a song in the air
A drop in the void
A whisper among whispers
& echoes creep out of crevices

If deserts protect their chastity
& Parch every drop of sullage
Men will creep out of each thirst
& Fetch lest they're shriveled.

When songs drag the air with air
Ears shrink the savour
But there is a tongue for every pain
To sit & await their turn
Like time's folded palms, loitering for its grease.