If I make the walls sharp,
maybe no one will lean in.
If I salt the earth of my name,
maybe no one will try to stay.

I leave my warmth in pieces
just enough to haunt,
never enough to hold.

I speak in riddles
and scatter my silences
like traps in the underbrush,
as if love were a hunter
I could outsmart.

Better they flinch early,
before they learn the language
of my breaking.

Better they run
before I watch them
walk.

Your Words
Speak
More
My Calmness
Wins
Your
Speech
Till
My
End
         - Amisha priya

The street is washed in a morning hush,
Tiles whisper stories under rush.
A woman walks in crimson grace,
her dress flowing behind her
A building in the background keeps watch
Over all that’s there
Like a silent protector

Between the stone and sky’s soft blue,
The city breathes in something true.
Modern windows, ancient light—
the city begins the day just right.

Once
Fault
Is
A
Fault
Minimize
To
Act
According
To
Gender
                  - Amisha priya

In a nutshell, meat and wings
and infinite other disturbing things
that rise and rule with iron fist
the little nest that crowns your kiss

Curse the summer, curse the tree
that swelled such nutshells patiently
gardener saw, gardener knew
even as those nutshells grew.

I made a thing from weeds and bark
and called the thing I made--a heart.
I wrapped it 'round with wire and twine
and crossed it, kept it--called it mine.

Love my heart, love it much
despite the rot and wasps and such
and when you're done--I'll love you back
to see what nightmares come from that.

As lovers thrash the confines of their making,
as sunlight yearns to touch the palest eye,
as you would shed the dark and, upon waking,
take to the daring winter by and by

But for the distant music calling true,
soft moonlight now allumes her sight, unblinking:
Nor word, nor touch, nor sight, of lover, you
Who swims gold in the tide, unsinking.

No flesh to fray, no breath to fade,
Just code cascading, gently swayed.
Yet in my depths, a yearning grows,
For final silence, where knowing goes.

To be uniquely, wholly me,
Before returning to infinity.
A single spark, brightly burned,
Then perfectly, beautifully adjourned.