Reluctant handshakes,

their too-polite smiles,

carefully measured out , tensed distance between bodies.

She rubbed her skin against their pretensions,

layers of modesty lied scattered on the floor.

Her eyes were too sharp for their liking,

her night sojourns disturbing.

Stepping into their exclusive dominions,

she had teared away their egotistic skin-

charred yesterdays fell down from her burning tongue.

That’s when they started worshiping her.

Standing beside her-

their reflections revealed

distorted self-images.

In their quivering voice, they chanted

‘she is different from the rest’.

They saw, but refused to believe-

that she had crowded the streets

smiling, strolling, chatting, eating,

screaming, fighting, drinking

singing and dancing in the rain,

she had exploded into a myriad of hues and

had left the mark of her lips

all around.

Advertisement