RIC Journal

when a man passes by
my hips sway-
a will of their own
they have.

at a signal the car sighs
men turn and look-
she moans.

far from the heat of the city
in a cool room on the second floor
she strips the layers of her skin
placing her hand at the seat
of her soul-
the universe sighs.

red is the colour of my blood
it comes in myriad shades
pumping a million desires,
laughter ripping the ceiling apart.

sour lemons grow
i planted you three summers ago
changing recipes of lure-
the earth groans.

my body aches –
longings no god can satiate;
of the soul another time.

bitten remains of the apple
stuck between my teeth
from the beginning of Time-
my tongue traces eve.

milton, dante, jung, lacan, faiz, manto, bible, quran
frida, zehra, plath, scriptures –
the vomitus of wars
against the self

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