The Sun Never Parts by Devika Mathur

Image Source: Snappa

The days are blurred, almost like the orange juice

from last night’s party

a pale sick shadow of grapevine hanging across my windowpane-

 perching beneath my skirt

to cast its magic onto my heavy eyelids.

People say- “it is sunny outside.”

But, how should I believe?

With a loose limb, the clemency of body

I defy even the flowers.

          The river is mad, I shout

mad as the river                river is mad

the naphthalene ball fills the aroma inside my lungs

to inhale something heavy is nice.

Yes, I have been told of the sins and the blood-

the mercury heavy stars,

the Earth that never folds like a paper

The wound is everywhere- you see

spreading like a blob of colour

   often too deep into my porous skin:

rustic, orange caskets of spilled dreams.

-DEVIKA MATHUR

Devika Mathur resides in India and is a published poet, writer, editor. Her works have been published in The Alipore Post, Madras Courier, Modern Literature, Two Drops Of Ink, Dying Dahlia Review, Pif Magazine, Spillwords, Duane’s Poetree, Piker Press, Mojave heart review, Whisper and the Roar amongst others. She is the founder of the surreal poetry website “Olive skins” and writes for My Valiant Soul.  She recently published her book “Crimson Skins”. Five of her poems were published in Sunday Mornings River anthology. More of her work will appear in two forthcoming fierce anthologies.

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