top of page

Hmmm

Updated: Jul 11

By Krish Sharma

Wrapped in those white robes,

Like curtains on a candle.

Dishy vocals of her sound,

Personifying daisies in a sandal.


Complacent, clubby hands of hers,

Sliding down this ruptured throat.

Live for the smiles, grump.

Or so did she quote.


Alternation to my skin,

Her ecstasy blending into mine,

Pauses of breaths within pleasures,

Feeble "hmmm" became their signs.


Something luminous in her eyes,

A strong scent of stillness.

The her in me, symbolizing life.

Rest illuminating the illness.


Sugary lands she claims to live on,

Pearly smile doing the work of meth.

She respires any longer beside me,

And excess contentment will be my death.


By Krish Sharma




Recent Posts

See All
Winston and Mine

By McKenna Dugdale If depression is the black dog, then what is anxiety? this seemingly hyperactive other that we cling to in the event of it being right. i think it would be one of those little white

 
 
 
Loving

By McKenna Dugdale what is love.  why is it what the poets, philosophers, and teenagers alike contemplate till their hearts bleed out.  what if its just a cynical culmination of lust, trust and that w

 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page