Pivot

rub, rub
this ripple of water
on my lips
that twitch & break.

A lotion of rain,
winds collected in my eye
and a nude vase of arm,
that hums a cerulean sigh.

An acoustic of roses
swivelling my nerves
a blue vacant vein
now full & warm.

rub a spot of clouds
onto my bosom of emptiness.
a tongue only knows moisture
a tongue only knows a life beneath.

A joy emerges
from the shamble
of splintered life.
rub, rub, rub
a butterfly, a moth,
a window of blueberry night.


Published by

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.

32 Comments

  1. My favorite lines “rub a spot of clouds
    onto my bosom of emptiness.
    a tongue only knows moisture
    a tongue only knows a life beneath.” Beautiful words as always, Devika. Such a pleasure to spend my evenings reading your poetry

    Liked by 1 person

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