Stars Near the Eclipse

She kicks a throb in my heart –
vacuity looms from afar, in the spiral dust
prepared to palpate colors,
as crisp as silk robes downed with Miller

The tribe of her womanhood could scurry
in the flurry sense of jeopardy, they find
their own dreams a nuclear arsenal
to bury when most would time it to be ready

Yeilding the tresses to an unborn apology,
she distances herself from the aging crook’s
dying company. She fields her virtues
in all the right places, trimmed and starry.

Most unlikely heroes must worship her –
she plainly speaks of her Godliness
as her throes are winding into an arc,
of unchallenged eclipses and a dawn afar

Slipping into a priory to undo her fire
she must sip a cry she let out in her past.
It rides too overwhelmingly in her sleep,
and when she brushes away her worries she feels like a new born queen

© Prateek Joshi and WordPress, 2017-2018

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