She still lives

TShe Still Lives

She still lives,

That gigantic structure, that huge heap of bones

Standing crooked, walking crooked

But almost falling and crashing dead.

Her sapling dries drop by drop,

Her eyes turn into a cup,

Her cheeks hollow deep

As if she’s on the verge of eternal sleep,

She has become a scene, but still lives!

Her food is scant; her meat is ever cold,

She never visits his tomb, though being told,

She never lies where he died.

She thinks she will die too if she lies,

But she still lives.

She has a mind swarmed by ghosts,

Evils, fairies, pigmies and oaths,

She swallows genes and blood,

Goblins pour on her in a flood,

Almost making her a mad poet,

Killing her while she can’t forego it,

In her sullen past; but she still lives.

She is drying, burning for water,

Water, water, water, water!

Water always runs down her sink

Or trickles down her rags green and pink,

She can suck the whole reservoir behind a dam;

She is drowned, but still lives.

She has a sharp tongue, a tenacious mind,

She can beat him, bind him, and make him blind,

But he loves her still the same:

She was the one who bore his mom.

He loves her for the exquisite smile

She gives when she kisses and pats him in the old style,

Then she becomes all a rose and looks him in the eye.

She still lives, though she yearns to die!