The way it slips

 Life bleeds
with vacuum and spaces,
backwards, a concave slope
mouths of thickening slurps.
it confesses its leakage
each day, puncturing my navel
a forgotten momentum
of involuted threads
of rising and falling.
Life, bleeds and bleeds.
a copious bruise of camouflage.

©image and words- Devika Mathur/MVS

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my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

59 thoughts on “The way it slips”

  2. I don’t have to say it. Nothing can be better.
    And let me be keeping my head high here. This post is at the request of your most devoted fan- and that’s me
    Thank you so much

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  6. And we still want to hold on life, even if it slips each second from your hands. Life bleeds, and so does we, giving us words, making someone our poetry.❤️ Your words provoke deep thoughts in my soul, Devika.🌼 More power to you and your pen.🤗

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  17. Loved the metaphor and conclave and life moving backward and bleeding..There is always that tinge of pain in your poetry and you define it beautifully but for some reason, it feels like you are holding yourself back while writing this.

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  24. Oh wow! Vacuum. I have thought of it as being concrete. I really like how you convey it. The way you wrote, makes me picture a weird decaying old being.. poking ur navel,with slurping mouths. Well done!

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