Salvation - Poem by Sanika Khairnar
The dusk dawns
As Tulips and white lilies shrunk
The shades turn to fawn
Spreading gloom as the dark lunge.
The moonlight seeps in,
Making the shadows dance with a foreboding
She looks from the window of her live-in
As she crumbles into her past cringing.
“Action”; had ordered someone
Her entire life been an obligation
Living to satisfy anyone
She played her role with apt precision
And sometime earlier it had happened
He had been a sympathizer to her misery
Like lovers in each other’s arms they had cradled
As they drank to their past, schnapps of cherry
In his presence, she had gleamed of gold
Grasping hands, clutching bodies
The urge to get purged they couldn’t withhold
As they had made love against the oddities.
Then it had rained…
It had transformed not only the weather
But also the person who had snored,
Ditched by her ardent lover,
To get transformed into a whore.
The most luscious without competition
Like a nymph who quenches the thirst
Well versed with the art of seduction,
She had iced the nipples on her bust.
The needle had kissed the skin,
Intoxicating the blood as she had sighed,
In this carnal knowledge there was no win
As she had slowly slipped into the state of high.
Her vision had blurred to trepidation
Movements in her stomach had itched like a thorn
Their baby had been her salvation
The three months old, inborn.
She had dreams of motherhood
When men had kissed her with passion deep
Had hoped to give her child a decent neighborhood
When between her thighs she felt their warmth seep.
Desperate to be her own director,
Tired of being a cheap actor,
She wanted her child to be his own sculptor,
And to grow into a noble benefactor.
Steering back from her reverie in attention,
She hears the sound of pattering footsteps.
Averting her gaze in distraction
She closes the window drapes.
His smile is contagious as he rushes in her arms
With striking features and countenance bold
She wraps him in a tight embrace and charms
The three months old, grown into three years old.
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