Trigger Warning
It was that night
A night, that exhaled
conniving and boastful teal-helix
A night that gnawed
at the eyebrows of the moon-flower
After many dawdling promissory-bruises
smeared on her prancing lips
A night that had claws
heinous enough to slit her mornings
All those boisterous mornings
as if those were linen curtains
so thin and fragile
As if that night had the power
to scrape all the hues
those celestial brushes had scrounged for her…
Sequinned silver-breaths from mermaid-tails
Tenacious red-clasps of Jupiter-spangles
It was that night, that wily-treason…
That made her realise…
Certain things never walk to you as anticipated
Irrespective of how deep
you must have excavated yourself
To make home for those things in you