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Divya Gaba May 2016
I ran out of fire extinguisher at 3 am.  
Oh very well then,  
I reckon some forest fires  
you can only douse,  
if you are to burn with them.


Don’t worry sweetpea  
it’s not going to **** you yet.  
You’ve still got some time to serve.
Some storms to weather.  
Some flames to persevere.  
Some houses to burn.  


When you’re done rebuilding the city from scratch,
When you have eaten enough rubble to be able to call it home-food,
When you’ve drank sweet sweat and craved for blood in a chalice instead,
You may leave.  


Congratulations my love!  
You have lived.
Divya Gaba May 2016
How is it that your scared gets to be scarier than my scared?

Last time I checked,
We had an equal number of holes in our bodies to breathe love.
The sweat we made together reeked of the same insecurities.
Even the dreams we spoke so highly of, birthed from the same stories.

So, tell me then,
What is it that men like you do?
What is it that men like you eat?
A secret ingredient,
The Chinese peach of immortality perhaps?
Or is it elixir from the moon rabbit?

Did you say “Love”?
Oh look, we’re even now.
Divya Gaba May 2016
I may have given some of me to you on rent

Please don’t ask me to give you my alone.

It’s mine forever to keep.

As much as it’s yours forever to seek.

I will live to see the day when my forlorn is so inexhaustible

That the world makes renewable energy out of it.

It is then, I die in peace.
Divya Gaba Mar 2018
The good natured computer informed me this morning
It’s been a whole year since you and I shared our first half-kiss.

But how does one measure the time we spent together
since we let each other go?

That my computer says it knows nothing of.
Do you think it too, might be heartless?
Divya Gaba May 2016
You see that woman’s frown line talking?

It has limbs of its own- arms, legs alike.

“I’ve have been fleeced”- it moans incessantly.

Why may I ask Madam?

“I had asked for breakfast in bed. They served me devil in a teacup instead.”
Divya Gaba Mar 2018
One day I’ll be a daughter, a woman and a mother.
I will raise men who don't know how to ****.

To my father
To my lover
To my son
I’ll teach
You don’t make brothels out of bodies.
Divya Gaba May 2016
Honey, I can’t seem to find my heart.

Have you heard it throbbing somewhere lately?

“Yes”, he excitedly exclaimed.

“I put it in the washing machine this morning. It’s clean now.”
Divya Gaba May 2016
Nice to meet you, stranger
You look like I love you from somewhere.
  
We’ve got three whole lives
to exchange pleasantries.  
Yours. Mine. Ours.
  
But just for now,  
can we go back to my place
and set each other on fire?
  
I only ask because, tonight
I’m inflammable.
Divya Gaba May 2016
Her body with a spectral of invisible tattoos that looked like scars she wore for warpaint.

To see them, they’d have to re-invent the colour wheel, and look at it in the fourth dimension.

Her eyes- bulbous, sullen, luminous buttons. The kind you find only on shirts that glow in the dark.  
The neck- a charred red;

Many a thousand orange suns resided there.
Converging a pungent focal point, on her principal axis.

Some men would call her ugly.

But how she looked like the most beautiful roadkill he had ever seen..

So, he drove over her again.

— The End —