She Performs A Woman

By Ayushi D

Demure in the cotton wrapped around,

Water dripping from the ends.

A slow droplet marking the body,

Curves shying away, she tiptoes, still wet.

The dancing eyes spy the gaze,

Denying even the air the right

To acknowledge the body.

Layer by layer, fabric performs on her,

Masking the naked presence.

Fingers comb the remnant memories of

Wetness from the locks, a slick pleasure of rebellion.

The fabric rustles in vociferant whispers,

Protesting the act.

The flesh redolent in soft vapours of lavender

Mingles with drenched rosemary in the hair.

She adorns the nakedness of the ears, the neck, the hands, the feet

In reprised strokes, as if a painting in progress.

Amidst the bedeck, her gaze follows the

The performances documented in forgotten trinkets,

Depressed tints, and curated wardrobes.

The collected props of existence

Embrace the dust of time.

A murmur of melody leaks in the muted

Room of memory from her lips,

The memory etched in the muscles of the ingenue,

Changing bodies, but the fabric remained.

The nakedness now hidden in embellished gestures,

She walks in measured steps towards the burnished fabric.

The gaze oscillates, searching who is the reflection?

Outside a flutter of sunset, the reverie is pierced.

She rushes to acknowledge the naked monarch.

Air snatches away the entangled fabric, the ornaments rattle.

Hands grip the edge of the window, body curves forward,

She holds the loud orange against the sea of green in her eyes.

END

By Ayushi D