First Published in the Oddball Magazine
Sun on my neck speaks of its warm presence
and lift the veil of the darkness
like that cup of that warm leftover milk
curdled like my thoughts
sitting and getting consummated by the fall of the day
and soon the night will come bearing the
shadows of the doubts
the moon will scoop the fallen light
in this palms and smear across his face
as he always does every night
reflecting beauty in the borrowed light
the silence into soliloquy with night
will speak in a thousand unborn tongues
and I sit here tight-lipped
tongue shredded between the teeth
thinking of the
string of words
lodged in my throat
to bring an end
to this deep silence
lurking between you and me.
–Megha
Photo by Abdi Lopez on Unsplash
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