This day floats around a corona
smiles splitting across my carbon face
Fuming naphthalene balls beneath mint skies

I think of the burning, 
that swims beneath those eyelids, freckled paper and butter skin
rubbed sunlight, where the tears appear to me as phantom chrysanthemums
morbid petals, scales in rings, triangular patches of varying skin,
vibrant and sweltering

I sit here
and I want to run, run my fingers like a lumped dagger
into those heatwaves and perform a sorcery
Kill every auburn inch of light
until darkness 
gels and ties our necks into clumsy knots
of a standing rose

I think of wandering water in clementine circles
Gathering soap-like around the shape
of your boat, holding you in a reverie 
as I hold you in mine
And then I think of drainage
of levels dropping
as your body fragments in my palms and spills 
Like a warm gushing tenderness

I collect your shapes,
shells wandering around open oceans
and let them battle for a taste of my skin
As they repair and damage my perky naval
to sing a clairvoyant tune
of your enhanced finger scales

I think of a murdered sienna, her arms and toes,
as they lie, clinging to your feverish firm lip
Bruised and flavored, watering locusts,
too many colors
from beetle leaves of hurting bodies
and then such hot white light,
My fingers crumble and 
rise again, in the semblance of your goofy smile 
And I know 
amidst disputing breaths
that nothing in this world
will ever be the same again

Image and Words © Aakriti Kuntal

 

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7 thoughts on “Coherence

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