Olive Skin – Devika Mathur (An Excerpt from Crimson Skins)

My Mother has a concave slippery mouth,untouchable with the slick tunes of time.She carries nostalgia,like an offering,a seduction performedin the onyx of mouths colliding.A star shadowmolten in pieceswith liquid layers of murmurssticking to her bare belly button.Lipids resting like a heavy eyelid.She stitches her concrete bun,as a belt of Gangesher crisp breaths floatingto tangle the elixir … Continue reading Olive Skin – Devika Mathur (An Excerpt from Crimson Skins)