Saturday, January 19, 2019

Time Is Me by Devika Mathur


Needles in my mouth, poking the sustenance of time
with a swab of cotton dipped in grey pause
A pause from the rigorous living and the dead,
beyond the veil, a harmony exists, a topology of Stardust
covering my naked breast.
A musical building devouring me with lust
sprinkling some on the nape of my neck,
Beyond this, precision exists forming clouds,
resembling my black locks elongating the path,
to travel the unfathomable soil,
the color is not Auburn, it burns
it burns on my arms, it burns on my wet tongue,
twisting in forward steps,
each moment time moves, I stay here to glean the patterns,
to play hide and seek with the mirage, a shadow.
I draw curtains, performing segments to watch
the porcelain body of time's shadow,
drawing paintings on the cerulean sky and I see,
a fragile moment of reflection
swallowing the colossal truth of me
Time is Me







Devika Mathur is a published poetess from the country of love, India. She writes for her own blog http://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com.
Her work has been published in Madswirl, Visual Verse, Subterranean blue poetry, two drops of ink among various others.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Every Time at This One Poetry Reading By Chad Parenteau

A woman still wearing corsets, drinking wine  from a goblet, takes up time on the mic  to say I’ve  never been shit. She mumbles in her cup ...