Akriti's Song

could be the key she hangs by her neck
fits in a mahogony door she keeps locked
to keep them from flooding into this
bright, blue day that river
of drowned Akritis who saw
beneath the stream a land
of sleep,
set spiraling in frozen
motions their frail hair tethered to a head
almost dead from only giving love to stones and
fishes with no memory,
settled at the dark bottom with the pockets in their dress
before they could be kissed by him
under the same lamp in the same street
when after, for all her days she would
claim a shade of light
for safekeeping




Poetry by Praveen Bhusal
Read 48 times
Written on 2018-07-29 at 17:37

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