Devika Mathur spreads like butter
your skin is a lumberjack
my fingers pricking the whims of your touch,
a vacant room suspended on my white skin,
a chair of your voice,
screaming, aesthetic nerves of the saliva.
i enter your body like a prayer,
again and again with hand-picked chants.
I spread
like butter on bare body,
cold sheets of absent air
sitting on my nostrils like a forgotten star,
love fills the places of vacant walls,
walls leaking
and veins dissolving.
love does that all.
(if my title does not do the justice to the poetry, pardon me)
