For a long period of time, we have been told to conform to the different standards set for us by the society. We grew up in a system where having milk colored skin and lean, slender bodies is the only acceptable image of beauty. Several advertisements and individuals will try to tell you what you need to buy or do to improve yourself, and I’m writing this letter to say that you are superb; a creation of purpose.

In a world where violence, fear and hate continue to exist, it is essential for us to unify and persist in eradicating the barriers that have been placed before us. Regardless of our differences - our backgrounds, religions, ethnicity, political views, jobs, academic standing, and flaws or perfections – we all want the same thing in life: respect, love and success. We all want to be seen and esteemed for who we are but we must also know that a women’s success doesn’t equalize with another’s failure. It is important that we work forward in life hand in hand, rather than to step on others just to rise above everyone else. Know that there is a time, place and an opportunity for all of us to accomplish our dreams. Know that you are able to think for yourself – despite of what the world keeps telling you. I believe that women like you and me are capable of creating history every day. I believe in the power of inseparability, that we could push the boundaries and open other people’s minds to a better discourse if we collectively act to make it happen.

As we celebrate International Women’s Month, I encourage you to find the good in the women around you. Let yourself be inspired by their experiences setbacks and victories. By doing this, we not only strengthen our respect for one another, but we open doors for others and ourselves.

This is letter is for all the women who’s looking for their place in this world. Whoever you may be – a student, a businesswoman, a coach, a lawyer, a janitor, a musician, a scientist, a military, a teacher, a traveler, a doctor, an athlete, a poet, or a transwoman – know that you are smart, beautiful, inspirational and strong.

Thank you for being yourself.

Sincerely,
Pat

The Wait:
don’t look for love in public spaces
love is shy always
hesitating she comes with flowing grace
to the patient lover
in the end all that is needed
is to look into the mirror –
in the reflection of your eyes
you’ll find her!

The First Smile:
Oh! Say not that this world is mean
do not turn your face away from me!
the lack of a smile in return
was not intended to spurn
but your smile left me so captivated
so caught up and fascinated,
that even as my heart somersaulted,
my lips forgot to smile!

Being Together:
the mist hides my secrets,
of it are born my desires
the arc of the moon expands to contain
every wish of this lovesick heart
the morning but amplifies this-
the sweetness of the night’s embrace
on sleepless pyres were burnt our passions
on winter’s breath our dreams impaled!

Inseparability:*
Love isn’t Love
until one sees
that I am You
and You are Me
so where lies the question
of coming and going
wherever you are
there I shall be!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

How one does reach the beginnings end
when the heart is hampered by woe.
The outcome hung eager to impend,
and there was nothing left to stow.

It was many and many a week ago,
In this room I first did see.
Where beauty she first did show,
What I wanted to be.

The elegance of her movements, and the gentle look in her eye.
For me an instant connection, for her a single lie.
There would be somber nights alone, when I would briefly catch a thought
On this mysterious beauty, who shall forever entice her spot.

There was that single night, with horror and connection,
where our lips first did meet, and I felt affection.
It was a moment of passion, and utter bliss.
There was nothing to hold me from such a pure kiss.

Forthcoming days passed as years as we grew together.
A brief sense of inseparability that could have lasted forever.
I was a fool to let her in so fast,
As I knew that I must take care of my past.

The cards themselves, did see what was true,
All along I knew what I must do.
It was a decision I had thought through,
and it was the hardest thing I have done.

I will miss that smile, that look in your eye,
The way we touched, the eternal seeming high,
The best opportunity that has ever slipped by,
Because you deserve better than me.

Back rubs and kisses, dancing partners, and bones,
All bare sharp reminders of the saddening tones.
Broken beds and The Crazies, Elm Street and dance,
All the things that I have lost my chance.

Named cars and bathroom signs, Anime and creaky stairs.
I will have to shrug off because nobody cares.
Secret chocolate stashes and cuddling, Buffy and Intertwined legs.
To get these back one silently begs.


Cha Cha and Waltz, Salsa and Swing,
Us together these shall no longer bring.
First true moments of pleasure and a relieved sigh
All the things of which I must say goodbye

So then came the night where I would make things right.
To tell the truth and stay for the fight.
I hoped with the truth, we could move on and stay,
But all she wanted was to push me away.

Apathetic she said, never truly cared,
Foolish that my heart even dared.
She stared at me blankly, eyes of ice,
and froze away all my entice.

Don't talk to me now, I need some space,
Cheaters are not allowed to finish the race.
As you walked out, I hoped for an ending hug,
I got an apathetic no and an ample shrug.

I know I have no one to blame but me,
And now I am stuck wondering about all that could be.
These eight days, no other way I would spend,
and it hurts to see our dance come to an end.

The thing about inseparability is that you spend so many sleepless nights trying to familiarize yourself with each and every reason he named the arrangement of those walls "home" and when you finally leave (the candy bowl, the green Christmas lights, the keyboard, the twin size mattress, the bathroom cabinet),
Kenopsia lies in the forgotten combination code and you're left blankly staring at your front door and the splinter in your foot from the plywood floor and the unexpectedly obnoxious ding of the microwave and the look on your moms face when you have to ask which forks are in which drawer and when your cat paws at your tangled headphones but runs when you try to pet her and you remember that she is actually a he and you had to change his name because Matilda wasn't unisex enough for your niece, who's been making all A's in school, no thanks to you, even after the help you promised her was never provided, much like the bowling nights and painting mornings you once planned with her.
And you can't sleep at night because your arms aren't flexible enough to wrap themselves around your torso and rest beneath your neck like his did and your bed makes an unfamiliar screech each time you toss or turn or stretch, or blink, or take a breath and the light can't be turned off with a click of a button and the room is too cold without a radiating body next to you to fill the frigid air with warm words about running toward city lights, and you realize that you've dreamed of a home your entire life and you thought you'd never found it and maybe you still haven't but you've built a structure with his bones and use his curls as blankets,
but what the three little pigs didn't warn you of was that all it takes is a cloudy day to birth a storm strong enough to rip the ribs off their hinges.
The storm hasn't hit home yet, but it's almost hurricane season, and you can't remember where your dad always hid the flashlights from your niece; and light is shed on the fact that darkness houses vulnerability.

My heart was aching from writing to you,
A letter that defined my feelings toward you.

As hard as it may seems.
As fragile as your souls it may be.

That shows our inseparability.
Yet all of my sins that you have devoured purging the path of Darkness and Sadnes all the way.
It may be unforgiven because the Devil was once an Angel himself.

Yet he was threw to the darkest, deepest pit of the World.
Is that a desirable and suitable place I shall be?

I sense that rejection is not a failure, getting back together is not a no-hoper.
But still, the root is your truly pure-hearted soul.

All is yours and not mine.

The 'was' in we. The 'had' in us. The togetherness shrinks deeply as my sorrow turns deeply hallow.

Into unexpressed words, rhymed with the loneliest soul in the world.
Undefined by feelings and emotions.

This is the letter, I made for you, my darling.

Touching her hot blood euforically flowed through his heart and veins permeated his soul not only with passion but with belongingness and inseparability almost spilling from his mouth to her soul when he kissed her. Spirit of superhuman, metaphysical love crystalized in their hearts by hand of God before they met . She awaited him while he awaited her to be lost in the spell of their eyes and sink in amazement of magic wand of universe. Nights became divine dimension, day boundless delight of sun given them at their feet.

I walk through an anemic street

Its galvanized paleness generating a ****** fever

Menstrual blood smears the walls the alleys

There is an expectancy of life and death

As a single occurrence

An experience of inseparability

It is a primitive animistic street

That propels dark gods to ****** frenzy

Who generate molten red drifts

Along the steerage of its passage

It is a street that has anticipated its journeys

Of a concentrated and indelible red

Of loud and terrible silence

That knots around white waists

Speaking in frantic crimson

It is a street of cycles

elated amongst others
kind as a woven spell
clean as housework furnished
a tufty moggie for all seasons

bathing in your after care
you make a mensch of us all
countless others cant compare
to your inseparability
and after care