Pussy

An act so natural
For the little white furry being
It could be mistaken for a yawn
A nap, the sound of purring
A violation so brutal
Forging innocence in the guise
Of her non-humanness
A shameless creature
Not seeking forgiveness
She doesn't ask for approval
Social sanction,a private room
To stick her tongue down
To the love button
Licking not
Just once or twice
Looking
Neither here or there
Her legs stretched wide open
One pointing to the dentist's office
One to the exit door
And her tongue
Never stops moving.

An act so natural
It could be casually scribbled across
Her time table
An act barred from
Even the realm of my mind.

Aakriti/Shape

there is a shadow of a woman that I see sometimes

walking in me step by step, all the way, everywhere

she is the one who needs company 24/7, she doesn’t speak

she likes to listen, she hides when they throw light on her

she has the power to become invisible, she loves her home

beneath the ground, she likes how she is so neat and defined in her

shape, like warm walls to keep safe, and on the right day

you can see the whole world moving outside of her

she, like a figure that stands the same way every day

staring at the same space, in a canvas mistaken for a cage.

there is a reflection of a woman that I see sometimes

staring back when I try to look at my face, she just blows

me a flying kiss every morning and tells me I look pretty,

she changes all the time, but she never lies; she is 25 one

day with a cat in her arms and a bookshelf right behind,

the next day she’s a grandmother with red hair and lots

of tattoos; she challenges me from behind the glass

to bring her to life, but she has no shape, just a liquid soul

that keeps filling into new dreams everyday.

there is a window to a woman I feel everyday

she is short but walks tall, her hair covers her like

a mushroom cap on rainy days, she has holes in her skin

and needles on her legs, and a flame in her eyes, she holds

a sketchpad in her hand and captures everything that makes

her smile, only she edits out the unnecessary props, she cries

like a baby, and laughs like one too; some days she has a hard

time, her body hurts, she is starting to grow out of her being

she’s changing her shape, she’s sprouting her wings.