trespass

Posted: June 25, 2016 in Uncategorized, writings
Tags: , , , , , ,
1

bird song, london underground via the feather collective

the sweep of my hand lights
the slow fire of a blush

spreading over searing scars,
awakening pain folded in

three neat squares. i don’t
linger but it’s too late, and as

my hand trails unseen paths,
whole and unbroken, you

in your meticulous way
fold the old horrors, and

when i return, i find
three neat squares.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

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