I saw your heartbillowing on the clothlinewhere you hung it out to dry,while your soul leftfor forty days of fasting in the desert.Through your now clearand transparent huskI could seeyou have marked the placewhere you wouldput them back—right next to your wounds.
In your templeI violate the ritual,by drawing the patternof your birthmarkbefore brushing sindooron your foreheadand turmericon your collarbone.
Twenty Words Tuesday by Bulbul Week 36 Golden You punish me by loading your cauldron of silence on my back. It isn’t golden. It is dark and heavy . Leena.
You punish meby loading your cauldron of silenceon my back.It weighs heavybut your antagonistic eyeswarn me I cannot spill even a dropand if I did,it would takea whole sky of paper napkinsto wipe it dry.