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Monday, February 13

starts at night



everytime i empty myself

i feel my skin shrinking

my corpse of a body turns

a groggy grey

like that of a moon

except it lies deserted of that gentle coolness

a hellfire rises at every choking breath

father, i am rotten

how i am rotten!

the hounds have taken to my beady eyes

for dessert, the only sweet thing

may they see the light

may they see the light 

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marigolds



she coated my breasts with honey

and licked it off of me

hither and tither


the tingle made me red

like the hem of her kurti

she slept on my body and i began to weep

the window lay unlocked mahiya,

the window lay unlocked


like two marigolds of full and whole age

only, ingrown, eternally deprived of open musk fields

 

 

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