The Bride


The kohl in the moist eyes spreads on the face.
The eyes remain lowered with silent grace.
Time is held behind the curtains of the eyelashes.
The path of henna is traced across the lines with unknown faces.
The anklets that sing a ryhme of a new song to be sung.
The lingering smile on the lips in anticipation of the journey begun.
The flames that cast a glow upon the face of the bride,
The witness of oaths to be taken in the chasticity of the night.
Chants that dance in the air that plays with her air.
At the back of her mind rests a silent prayer.
Restless ocean of the turbulent memoirs of yesterday,
converge in the stream of the colours of today.

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