hill-berry child

Posted: April 11, 2018 in Uncategorized, writings
Tags: , , , , ,
1

image via pinterest

My descriptors a parenthesis
of synonyms, a hill range
of weird and odd to strange,
a graph of outrage.

What if I were to tell you
there’s nothing strange?

I am just a girl
looking for love dashing
to the singsong shores
of strangeness, hoping
the next crash will bring
with it love, a sediment
at least cutting its ridges
on skin keeping me
lit and dancing.

A tango perhaps
for the flamenco that I am
is so strong, so woman.

Partner me, love.
Dance me. Kiss me. Fuck me.
Slashed strawberries
did you know
spill scarlet?

Reacquaint me
with the breath of us.

slow rising falling falling

Falling into us.

© Anuradha Prasad 2018

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