"Few Lines" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

Few Lines

These few lines make me realize
That one day, I am to become a stranger;
When we become no one to each other.


These few lines hide underneath the tip of my soldier's eye.
They flow at the rate of my menstrual blood,
Strike me with a dying kick in my womb.


These few lines are the cigar to the ashes of infinite-half
That are sensationless and faint to the full-stop,
Yet to pierce through Othello, craves the lady with a lamp.


These few lines drop lifelessly, like feathers from my six-half inched hackle
That cry in letters worthless of thy mercy;
Love is ever gay if pure but a bane with no cure.

                                                                                   - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)