Arson in my Arteries Aarushi Prasad
chapped, unpigmented lips
yearning for matrimonial moistness, her pupils gazed intently,
at the rusted pendulum that swinged to the beat
of her pulsating heart forbidden concoctions of rum and coke became one with her benign blood
as sweaty palms blissfully caressed every inch of her cellulite-infested flesh.
the thrusting weight lifted off her he smiled. she smiled
he turned over. she turned over he slept. she craved
under the blankets of prejudice she worked and worked
propelling herself into utopias
where her toe-twitching thirsts were not quenched by diabolic poisons of patriarchy.
her moans escaped the long empty corridors of her vocal cords, only to be deflected
from the blackboards of societal pedagogy
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