It’s here
Hear, I have to go
On a journey
a trip
a lift
in a portal
rush, the onrush
squeeze inside
the tiny room
closer
close the door
congested space
like space and stars
twinkling beacons
the tips of breasts
begging to be chosen
touched, touch one
excitement
desires suspended
for a minute
maybe two

or you can let the darn elevator go and kiss me instead

The sting of sacrifice camouflaged in fierce expression
Tongue held but language in hands
Hands curled, prepared to preach a fire
and in his divine eyes swims truth
That our being is not sun kisses and rainbows
He wears vestments of courage and resolve
And believes in what others doubt
He is magnificent he is merciful
And he knows it
Let the sermon begin

written by malai carrara
photography by nausher banaji

She turns and twists like flickering fire
watching the reflections on blackness and following shadows on wind
caught from falling but tethered
and anchored down by thwarted dreams
the night wind whirls with silent screams

I am suspended between two lives
Longing to ascend to tender branches
Where wings and songs soar
Aching to find your echo

Tall black walls that reach the sky to shape a safe, secure place where doubts discard and fears are lost and all is happy. But these dark walls confine the quiescent denizen and after time, truth becomes untrue.
Black fortifications trap beauty in but also hold beauty out. Living on the other side the muted song of soft rain, the blacked out voice of authenticity and of course, hurt and pain. These sweet gifts denied.

words by malai carrara
photography courtesy nausher banaji

An unsteady gaze
thin walls and thin skin

fallen tresses and deep regret
flesh lit like soft marshmallow
and grief curling from it like smoke

a click in your throat
and knots in your knees
like the swirled trunk rounds of cut trees

written by malai carrara
photography by nausher banaji

She inhales
the caustic scent
of ambivalence.

Sees the unshaven face
of an ego suspended -
neither here nor there.

the contours of her eyes and mouth
changing and twisting
with each sip from the cup
of acrimonious promises.

a slow burn
as the venom circulates
trickling further and further
Spare me

Written by malai carrara

a sinuous bend from toe to cheek
Like the pale and curve of clouds
With sky - paint me fair
Will the tremble leave my skin

Show me unafraid
of the shadow that passes over sun
chase the whirl of passions that drifts in breeze
and shimmers like tinsel

Let these suspended charms
graze my skin to free my sorrow
in a graceful strand from back to heart
I’ll wear them like a string of pearls

written by malai carrara
painting by Sergei Shillabeer

Ensnared in comfort
Of imported collectibles and shiny floors
All these tidy splendors
A gilded strand that links the dream to reward

Absorbed by her own vanity
As though she is gazing at brilliance,
but not entirely convinced
to step forward

With the enchanting grace of dance
she gently steps to not leave her footprints
in the glaze of granite
she polished only a few minutes before

Malai Carrara
photography by nausher banaji

I am the rhythm of
dark clouds and half moon
heart thumps and falling celestial dew
the sound of rain weeping

Beating, the beat of
A moth flutter trapped in a mason jar
Tiny pinholes for air
Little seraph circled in silver dust

A hazy chrysalis
The interlace
Lace fingers
fragrant petals that whisper over the edge of skin

unspoken, but there and camouflaged
in waves of cool mist
tides undulating down
curling around like silk

like fog…..

written by malai carrara
photography by Jaroslaw Kubicki

Is there night dark enough to conceal
Her eyes from their sentiments, from what they may reveal.
Their pitch, a murmur in secrets seas, each tide un-tells mysteries
washes over her gaze, soft and fluid as sand
each grain imprinted with her thoughts beholden
masquerading behind the stain of insomnia, forever unspoken

written by malai carrara
photography by nausher banaji

Ophidian wakes just beyond the grottos of dreams hidden.
Peering behind clouds a half moon glimmers
and mist kisses its silvery skin. Stirring...
with spirit and grace it curves and bends
and advances to and from all that is forbidden
Emancipated from the mundane, the trifling, and the recurring

text by malai carrara
photography by nausher banaji

So was she - drawn to the watery silhouette
her shadowy portrait under a starry night
Wanting her fingers to wade over the placid blue
Wanting to touch the edge of calm

text - malai carrara
photography by nausher banaji

My eyes gleaned across the sea of blue-green earth that covered the forest floor
A blanket for those great roots
Each tree with its own rank
Some existed to reform
Some existed to obscure
Each with its own story
I took those first steps and entered a world different from my own – enigmatic and quiet. Each step aligned with each heartbeat.
It was near impossible to overlook the one woody perennial nearing eight centuries
- everything else sank into insignificance...

text © malai carrara
photo - Lana Land from series Retro blue~s

an uninhabited place
Somewhere between waking and dreaming
a blanket of ghostly air and darkness wrapped tightly
a moment of fear, the congested laments.
The shadows succumb, collapse to fine beams of light
so subtle and refined to illuminate hearts
And the tone with which they reverberate
And like an ember her essense warmed
She could hear her own echo, feel her own breath

written by malai carrara
photo by nausher banaji

Once…
beholden to ghosts of tradition
shadowed pediment gripped like tangled roots
answers lingered on the other side of reflection.
the air moaned and weeping stain the floor like ink
Once…
The intensity of solitude awoke a disobedient spirit
Unfastened the filaments of wing
To flee the common and the smell of dark
Shedding the dust and scales of masquerade and
Finally rejecting what was
once…

written by malai carrara
photo by nausher banaji

Beguiled
Is the marionette
Her bearings held by the master
Threads tugging veins of fate

a striae of thoughts
from then to now not all her own
she bends she moves to
velvety light and sweeping silhouettes

and grazing her feet
a palpable dust
the remains of fire
to swirl a toe

text © malai carrara
image © nausher banaji

Bitter bearings
Hobgoblins raking its back
Wind hollows and howls
Shaking loose its bristly layer
Of apathy

Detached from root
The solitary traveler tumbles
Pushed by shrieks and prophets
It rolls in barbed amazement
the seeds of pity left behind

text © Malai Carrara
photo by Jennifer B Hudson
http://www.jenniferhudsonfineart.com/

on marbled limbs of wisps and wisdom
embroidered black with magic
tending to somber plumage
under the clove of the moon

overhears the chatter of decay
fledgling recedes into dusk
to occupy the hollowness
with a memory with a prophesy

text © malai carrara
photo © nausher banaji

The stem taking a precarious foothold…
And clinging to its memories
A leaf or petal
Curled so slightly from thirst
it reaches….
...
We follow veins, the skin with spine
along the twists and intertwine
of being
wanting more and more…

tendrils creep and climb
The impermeable mortar
the harrowing condition of lost time
searching....

for a variegated self
before the rains and winds of fall
remove all evidence

malai carrara
image © nausher banaji