Conversations


dark-poetry

Then one day it happened
You stopped reading what I wrote
There were too many things on your mind
or you tired of turning them into paper boats
I couldn’t tell you how my poems changed
They became my conversations with you
One can speak freely to empty walls
and not fear that they would get a clue

©Reena Prasad

Love Is


Love is
your fingers tangled in my hair
a shared smile that no one else sees
a baby cheek pressing against my own
two tiny feet resting in my lap
a possessive hand tugging at me in sleep
a bright crayon portrait of me
a steamy cup of coffee not made by me
a foot rub after a long day
a packet of punjabi samosas
just when I crave for one
and you say you haven’t seen
love?

©Reena Prasad

A Part of Me


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A part of me has gone
to stretch and yawn under the ground

bathed in the care of the sun-warmed earth
heedless of the thumps of walking feet

Content to let roots grow into the sodden core
after the night of rain
and suck up all the rotting love
that has turned sickly sweet with neglect

A small piece leaves everyday

to lie safe in its own bed
A rusty cage with bent bars
sees it go

©Reena Prasad

The City Rolls Down The Road


A gleaming river crawls on all fours
between fiberglass and loose sand 
surreal as the easy life in this built-up jungle
if one has a map 
I do not

The city rolls down the road
at 3 in the morning
escorted by tall giraffes of light
The darkness having no place to go
comes and settles upon the watcher
mewing like a hungry kitten
insistent that I break my peace
to feed the little pariahs of doubt
waiting at the edge of dreams
©Reena Prasad