Aash Ashitha Poems

So clandestinely does
the night sketch the night,
like the fingers of darkness
entwining those of the shadows
...

one day
you turn a fisherman
and sail out to the sea.
you gather rubies and pearls
...

The dusty door
Spreads her legs
And welcomes her inside.
The roots of thirst
...

Blue is not the colour, nor is snowy- white or sun-licked grey.
I paint the sky with water.
The tear.
The colour of solitude brewing in the eyes of a half-dead widow
...