Inside the turbid head of the blue lake
a blue sky, a blue light, a blue mouth,
blue eyes, blue skin, skin in motion,
skin in water

Skin is sound, skin is concentric,
large wide gallops occur like age,
like music
the stagnant boil of winter
as she preserves her breath
Carefully weeding out
life from life
Splitting breath from breath
Such is the decoration of all time

I walk
above water
Between latent nights and
cold potato evenings
I walk on water
Gaze at a perforated universe
wrestling for vacuum inside tunnels
of bread-like feet

I walk
over water
Build an arc
with my arms of falling light
Skin is a lengthy delusion
as it reflects onto my face
The mockery of all light
Skin is a lengthy delusion
as it dances above my lip
‘Blue, blue, it’s a woman’s blue’
I say
as the lake sings beneath my feet

‘It’s a woman’s blue’
I say,
the lake filling my cheeks
A woman’s blue is like any other blue
but quieter, but stronger
Steady as the remorseless vow
of evening’s departed light


Image and Poem Β© Aakriti Kuntal 27-06-2017

28 thoughts on “A Woman’s Blue

    1. Thank you, Charlie. πŸ™‚ That coming from you is an honour. I absolutely dig your work. It’s outstanding. Makes my mind swell.
      Also, I dropped you a hello mail sometime back. Probably you missed it. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I’m in awe of skin of skins and blue of blues. This is a wonderful poem. Very soothing and still–acceptance of blue. Dark stillness.


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