In those moments of innocent ecstasy
I could feel you
Slither Inside of me,
Possessing me,
Benumbing my senses
With your Genius.
The first time I bled through your ‘cut’,
I was thirteen; at nineteen I fell in love
With your fire;
For there isn’t enough water in the world
To extinguish your fire
Or mine, for that matter.
To me, we’re like dreams
Floating through College Street,
.. Sometimes staying suspended in the ‘substanceless blue’
Observing.
Always observing.
You take me by the hand and guide my way
(For I are like poorly constructed sentences
Born out of puberty’s pen)
To me, we’re also like
Misplaced transferred epithets,
(Or even vague metaphors,
I’m not too sure)
Existing, yet *unexisting
Like asterisked words.
(We were like dreams
Floating through College Street,
Sometimes staying suspended in the ‘substanceless blue’,
Observing
Always observing.)
You still haunt my noonday dreams
With ‘Every woman adores a fascist’.
I’d never know why you said that,
Or Would I?
___
The Poet:
Nikita Parik is a 21 year old poet from Calcutta, India. She holds a Bachelors
degree in English from the University of Calcutta, and is currently pursuing
Masters in Linguistics from the same reputed university. Her works have
appeared in Femficatio, Blackmail Press, Efiction India, A Billion Stories, and
The Voices, and she awaits publication in the anthology "Dampen to
Bend" by Coal and Femficatio Publishing.
