By Devika Mathur
And so I crumble in my own jaw line
Leaking from the iris,
A stoned mahogany stuck
Beneath the frivolous sky,
I lie like a pond, open and scarred,
Rummaging through your eyes,
To seek something that belongs to my lip.
I fail the second day as well.
My mind talks pills and potions
A volatile adamant touch of burps.
A ripple lost and secured.
My mind is insane, forever.
Devika Mathur, a poetess from India is a published poetess and is a lover of everything dark and surreal. Her work has been previously published in Sudden Denouement, Visual Verse, Dying dahlia review, two drops of ink, Madswirl, The rye whiskey review among various others. Find more of her musings at https://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com