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The Park at Midnight Sneha Sundaram

Leaves of darkness Leaves of noir Gristly palimpsest With blood stroked lines. The backgrounds a mystery With deep set eyes Bloodshot, Howling wind storms by. An eerie blood trail The ghost of a jaw Mirrored tempest In regal blue dye. Her thin cinched waist, Pinched tightly through Guillotines corset Broke a rib or two. He drew her in With love in lieu Of tempered silence, In immortality, bid adieu. The leaves in the foreground Must cover her still Red dots the yellow And maroon marks the till. What a storm he captured Time standing still The royal blue princess Disintegrating in the leafy wind. He used his own blood And some of hers too Gradients for autumn’s erasure Red leaves fit the bill. Is it the park at midnight? Or her resting place You see the leaves drawn But I see her face. storizen.com | April 2014 | 60

Sneha is a dancer, traveller, entrepreneur, poet and author in waiting. She recently left corporate life in Texas to pursue her passion for writing. Sneha is currently in Bombay, working on a non-fiction book project that she hopes to publish sometime next year.

April2014  

nikita singh, sreemoyee piu kundu, adite banerjie, sandeep das, parthajeet sarma, sayarth nayak, seeta bodke, himani agarwal, sneha sundaram...

April2014  

nikita singh, sreemoyee piu kundu, adite banerjie, sandeep das, parthajeet sarma, sayarth nayak, seeta bodke, himani agarwal, sneha sundaram...

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