I Burn
Yes, I burn, I burn like the red hot tungsten bulb that glowed in your dingy dark corner churning acid. Tongues shouting mindless blows, blazing my cells to break free from the shackles of shame. But I always wished to burn like your sun which leaps in a frenzied halo, every time clouds churn their breath to shroud its glory. I wished to burn in those crammed prisons I had seen on colonial pages, where martyrs died a thousand deaths. They turn my hormones on to fight your acids that Need to be neutralised. I don’t mind burning at stake like Joan did, for freedom that lay past your dingy cell. But I hate to burn in the midst of hatred and violence, My flames die down to a streak when your acid tongues lash selfish swords, Just to be named and famed. My Pitutary stands alert, To put out my flame and hush it Behind your clouds where you hid in fear of an acid rain.
Saheli Mitra
Saheli Mitra is a social entrepreneur, journalist, author and poet, who runs her own content and creative company, Tales Talks & Walks (TTW). With an experience of 25 years as a journalist with a leading English daily of India, she has more than 200 published articles to her credit. Author of internationally launched romantic thriller Lost Words (July 2014), she is co-author of several short story collections and poetry anthologies.