Poetry: Burn by Arun Malani

Burn

 

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.