LEELA SOMA Mangled , strangled, blood, ink blood red, ink black colours dripping on asphalt tracing strange patterns blood red, ink black fuse -indigo- ripped pages curl up in the smoke, book bindings melt, leather tomes the gilt spines blackened, words lost or are they? like a phoenix rising, the blue-black red-tinged words fly high up in the sky the world over. Al Muttanabbi Streets forge ahead in shiny new pages of white brown, hues, the palette of colours rich as the artists and writers of the world as they birth verses, sketch a new world to replace pain, loss. The shock and awe of love reinvigorates, unites and creates. Leela Soma's poem, Phoenix, was written for Scottish Pen for an ev

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