Her water
She loves her baths and loves water.
The healing radiance of it
which opens her pores and excels
the art of uttering nothing.
You could have understood her mind
had you known the dirt and past.
The month long camp in which she had been
a girl of fifteen till when the wire
did pose no resistance to her.
She remembers the weekly baths,
the queer eyes and covert lust.
She likes the open taps at streets
where she bathed and lived a life.
The police had picked sometimes back
and left her with another nursing
in her belly.
The death of a baby
she can not wipe out
still she pours and pours
heavenly liquid.
© 2008 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar


Comments: 58
Lovely poem, Poddar!
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
Spicecomments.com - Thanks Comments
Blessings and best wishes - S.
We've probably all tried at one time or another to wash away pain; it's human nature to look for comfort when we're hurting.
I had the same question as Misty-- has a word been omitted?
Helping you meet your gather goals!
Thank you for posting to D, D &S
Thanks for posting in Journey Into Poetry !