Mohit Saini Poems

Not all that glisters bends to human hands,
Nor yields its weight to scales of trade and toll.
Some gold is spun in light no coin demands—
A wealth unminted, gleaming past control.
...

Crimson cathedral of split skin,
your hundred hearts humming—
each jewel a forbidden psalm
bursting with the tartness of saints.
...

My teacher said,  'Just do your math—
it won't take long, you'll see! '
But when I turned to grab my book…
it vanished. Poof!  (Not me.)
...