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significance of

by Sophia Pandit about a year ago in surreal poetry
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finding meaning in the minuscule

significance of
Photo by Freya Ingva on Unsplash


it’s settled.

She speaks to me in a figurative tongue--

eluding to most, alluding for all.

a deity rather coy, beady-eyed,

slinking Her way up the confines of the mortal realm,

not unlike that damned recluse,

spindly thighs now a ribcage,

bound to stucco with silk.

or those thirteens nicking themselves into billboards,

a warning for the potholes in the road ahead.

i yearn for Her gunmetal gaze to melt,

mercury tears raining on clover fields,

each stem sprouting a fourth tender, kelly arm.

as a matter of fact,

i would pop every socket

and shred all pellucid vein

if it meant i could be left with its chlorofilled skeleton,

whose oracle bones must reveal splendid truths

of what’s to come.

surreal poetry

About the author

Sophia Pandit


treating this like my second twitter account

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