ashimashukla - Hello Poetry

The halo shines iridescent Above my head Once gleaming purple Once pink Then silver Through the translucent green I can see How it incarcerates me My skin of porcelain is wrapped in silk pastel pink, ironed it mustn’t have a crease I twirl gently, Gracefully, Round the pole Past the Cumulus Neon Lights reflecting Off my manicured nails They scream privilege.

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Jun 2, 2021

Jun 2, 2021 at 11:21 PM UTC

Day 5. The View from Up Here

The halo shines iridescent Above my head Once gleaming purple Once pink Then silver Through the translucent green I can see How it incarcerates me My skin of porcelain is wrapped in silk pastel pink, ironed it mustn’t have a crease I twirl gently, Gracefully, Round the pole Past the Cumulus Neon Lights reflecting Off my manicured nails They scream privilege.

22

I saw Two yellow leaves Fall to their end (Or was it just the beginning?) They twirl Let the air carry them Wherever And in them, I saw us Inseperable Even in suffering (or was it desire?)

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Dec 24, 2020

Dec 24, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC

Specks of Dust

I saw Two yellow leaves Fall to their end (Or was it just the beginning?) They twirl Let the air carry them Wherever And in them, I saw us Inseperable Even in suffering (or was it desire?)

12

(in love) The curves of her body Glisten in the moonlight As she lies still Fallen by the pond I want to trace them with my lips I tell her she is exquisite and her giggle rings in my ears little bells signalling spring The curves of her body Glisten As the first rays of sun Greet her she whispers She is broken I want to caress her wounds they are deep dark unhealed And as I touch them We can pretend She is cured My words drip like honey They form a ribbon With which I wrap her I insist She is perfect How can she not be?

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Dec 2, 2020

Dec 2, 2020 at 9:02 AM UTC

Day 10. Parasitic

(in love) The curves of her body Glisten in the moonlight As she lies still Fallen by the pond I want to trace them with my lips I tell her she is exquisite and her giggle rings in my ears little bells signalling spring The curves of her body Glisten As the first rays of sun Greet her she whispers She is broken I want to caress her wounds they are deep dark unhealed And as I touch them We can pretend She is cured My words drip like honey They form a ribbon With which I wrap her I insist She is perfect How can she not be?

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