Grounded

In the silence
of mists and haze,
a poem falls from my sunny hairdo.

a Garland of potions & subservience,
an epoch of timeless gravity.
sitting and sewing a tale
inside my neon stomach.

A blue light,
so tangerine running through here,
lost in the evening,
lost in me.

I hear the garlands of solitude,
I watch the trepidations,
so full and convex.

I slip my hands through
this departing air
and I feel like another woman.
Fidgeting the remains of earth.


P s – my poem published on Mad Swirl.


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24 thoughts on “Grounded

  1. I love what you did here:

    “I watch the trepidations,
    so full and convex.

    I slip my hands through
    this departing air
    and I feel like another woman.
    Fidgeting the remains of earth.”

    Those lines read like you placed special care on their focus. They end the poem incredibly well too. It’s a strong piece, Devika.

    Liked by 1 person

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