no force no pressure
my eyes are a vessel for lies and my nails scratch devious heists
i cant take myself seriously when faced with death
my uncle used to beat my sister blue and i knew that i would be next but that didn't scare me
pain for women -indian women, is inevitable
kohl infused iris my senses are blinded
i walk into doors, windows and occasionally stumble into the pants of 40 yr old men
grey chinos and white collars, my youth is unavoidably millennial
there's excitement in the forbidden garden
everything is different and he is so new
so so new
i bet his wife hates me
we play games
i think it makes him feel young
he tells me to close my eyes and i do
he tells me to smile and i do
he tells me open wide and i do
his hair isnt receding and his eyes are wrinkle free
grey eyes
that was his code name
grey eyes was tall, thin lipped and build like a grandfather clock
his tongue spoke in a mellifluous language
words and sayings i pretended to understand
my penny chin agrees with 'cultured' white men
he lived in thailand you know
he liked when i spoke tamil
he thought it was exotic
he heard clicks and r's and found it tantalizing
i heard my amas screams
one day he realised i wasn't enough
there were other girls with oiler hair and softer hands then me
i mourned him
i drowned in his embrace and he floated in mine
