Poem: She

She calms me,
Like the ocean after a life in the harsh desert.
I touch her and the pulse paints a vivid picture,
In my inward eye, she’s my Austen and my Kahlo.

She gleams,
Like the golden sun,
piercing through tinted walls, and she breathes,
An air of luscious velvet,
brushing against my skin.
Rupturing my heart out,
Like a lily grown from deep, dark waters,
She calms me,
Like the ocean after a life in the harsh desert.
I touch her and the pulse paints a vivid picture,
In my inward eye, she’s my Austen and my Kahlo.
She smiles, knowing it hurts me,
To see her through distant barbed wires,
Made of rumours that make her sleep at night,
She tells me I’m a painting so rare,
I’d rather be hidden like the most beautiful affair.
And when she kisses me, she says,
Tomorrow will be a new day and we’ll begin again.
If only I could understand her depth and her lust,
If for once in this life, I could trust.
The sky shadows our nights with mornings unbearable,
We kiss once more and believe this is a fable,
Fingers intertwined like puzzle pieces of a masterpiece,
I await her presence and her breath,
And her hate, much to my despair,
I failed to realize she knew it all along,
That golden sun carried with it, my last breath, and now I’m bare, longing to touch her hair,
For eternity in the loneliness where I belong.

About the guest author

Harshinee Sriram

I am Harshinee Sriram and I am an undergraduate engineering student. I am an open bisexual and I love writing. I have authored two books, my latest being "The Horrors of Happiness". I also love singing and I'm an artificial intelligence researcher.
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