swollen lip
charred leaf
crumbling on my skin fetters
Have you awoken yet ?

I rubbed my head
Powder smoke
Aerial violets
Lawns gilded with amorous petal shakes 
I came the other night
rubbed my head on your catholic dress
and shivered like a willy light
in my own palm
to the lantern's smoldering cloth face

Amber sun litters your wondrous gown
Waters bleed within your capillary swimsuit
and colder 
Have you crinkled too much ? Tell me now

sleeves of tandem
the wick of purple mirrors
rumbling ever more,
your mid-earth wail shifting
on my morning bosom spades
Violet skin, Godly wrath
I have defied your satin gait
Tell me now
Is it too late ?
Is it too late ?

© Aakriti Kuntal
Picture : Aakriti Kuntal

5 thoughts on “Seedlings

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