Poetry: Burn by Arun Malani

My love’s vermillion cheeks,
incinerated by my desire–
rose petals withered under
lust, my love’s hateful eyes
pierce me and no deserted
fantasy–dream or moon–
finds me at peace in this
sweltering god-for-sook
-me land; my love, thrice
now, forgive me, even the
sins of the dead burn my
face, buried with shame and
marble and on gravestones
“pride” “envy” and, my love,
what could’ve been burns
ever so much more than
what never was.

Arun Malani is 18. He enjoys DJ-ing and sun-swallowing.


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