Structures

There are structures in place.
Some are man made.
Some are mind made.
There are clouds floating by.

I sit and talk. Not always with words.
In front of me sits a person
My person?
Through the years and moments.
A teenage, a child, a grown up
The room is full.
Same brown eyes stare at me as they change in emotion.
Experiences adding wisdom that is within reach yet so far.
Years before they will get absorbed into conversations.

Layers upon layers build and suddenly,
There is only one person infront of me.
I let my finger tips explore these structures-
Both, man made and mind.

Clouds come floating into the room.
They carry sun and light.

I will let your fingertips touch mine.
One at a time.

~insight07

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Statue

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Victims of masks and polished glass
Bodies with no traces of life
Even a statue tells a story.
Creation of fingers
And palms pressing into curves
Nose, lips and ears
Symmetrical breasts, a tiny waist and hips in proportion
So smooth, so cold
I stare at them when I spot them at
Malls, shops, maybe idols of gods?
All seem like a deceiving form to me.
Someday, this statue will blink at me
Breathe and hum a melody
With skin so soft,
So smooth, so warm.
It will talk of its feelings
And its stone heart
Which beats in every one,
Even you and I.
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~insight07

Access prose and poems in my book, “Dreaming in a Fish Bowl”!

Link- https://rb.gy/nbxljh

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Glass

I fold myself very small
Legs tucked in
Arms secured tight
And slip into a glass

You can look at me stare up and down as I cannot move at all.
But you won’t care to see after a point.
It is an effort to know me and my eyes.

Instead, you pour endless water in the glass.
Up until my neck.
Sip after sip you take.
I sit, drenched in my own thoughts.

A prison never feels like a prison, you say-
You went in the glass by your own choice.
I guess no one remembers or wants to remember
The promises that made me give in.
Promise of a hope beyond money.

I am too transparent. You can see my mind at all times.
I cry too easily.
The glass is full of tears now.
Over and above my head.

Will you help me pull out?
Help?

~insight07

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Familiarity

My sense of familiarity with the world feels strange.
Sometimes, it extends to cities at once.
Sometimes, it is the journey between 2 cities.
Sometimes, it is a conversation with a face that is changing.
Sometimes, it is the way a cushion is placed in my room.
Sometimes, it is the smell of people and the way they keep their hair, the movement of their limbs.
Sometimes, it is with the blue sky; the dome of our heads similar.
Sometimes, it is my own two shoes sitting outside in the cold
Against a cold door.
Sometimes, it is the tiny spider that webs inside me, still unknown to my anatomy-
Hair, bones, movements
A pile of paper crushed in a corner, a mountain against a sky
So blue, so blue
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~insight07

Check out my new book- Sun On My Hands!
https://wp.me/p5gmIC-1a7

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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.