I cannot seem to have time for games,
Yet it seems I’m yearning to play.
And I’ve no use for all these rules,
But I seem to follow them anyway.

It’s a done deed —
I’ve planted the seed,
Now all I can do is watch it grow.

I took in the  suburb my first facelift,
failed in the graveyard
In the pestle dusk
venus was overhead
got charred.
Lightning rod in the creek
of my skull
is rusted,
Undertow churning wheel of whirlpool
giving fresh wrinkles up
Too much
for my fragile facelifts.

Copyright@Dr Pragya Suman

You were in my dream last night
And Now
Every word I write
Is reminiscent
Of words you sighed
Into my skin.

I give myself
Mirror pep talks
To explain away
The way you stopped
and looked at me with words caught in your throat
Under the dimming bulbs of my parent’s porch

And I wish I could forget
Gentle as a sunset,
Your breath skimming my hands that night
Staining my skin under
Dying lights
And I can’t tell if I’m hurting right...

Everyone has some gold in them,
Try to find it,
Not the dirt.
9/5/2020