Gazala Rashid
Confession
Pouches of musk dangle
like the carefree ankles on a swing
Scented leaves
gently dust the tips of my soul
an old penny piece wedged in soil
Characters from yesterdays Spring
Your words
claim the title of honesty
Bored through my skin like the tightest screw
It is of no consequence young one
I always knew
I am a woman of fire
Not just clay and dust
Pride has long embroidered my thoughts
It is the vowels in her name
that prick my smile
numbing the flow to my chamber
each planned reaction, hopelessly fought
Summery skies and a
hawthorn breeze
Layers of intellect
sodomised my faith
Wallowing in the detritus of my name
Roll away your shadow
Let me grieve
Page(s) 127
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