Iris

So you did exactly what your heart asked of you
You picked her up, that mess of a little rebel she was and placed,
a tiara of hope on her head
some embers in her eyes
watch her bleed poetry
and bloody beautifully so.

Day after day
There she lay painting pictures of you in lights her world might never see
Who said it has to happen to be able to live it?
She could walk the blindfolded you through the roads she traversed
a thousand years in those numbered days
and gleefully so.

Do you remember her?
If you do, what about her?
Do you miss that innocent face of her while she sleeps?
Hard to believe what a mini-monster she is in the day, ain't it?
I eavesdrop her every now and then talking to herself about you in her sleep
and smilingly so.

I like the slope of her waist
and how the ice cube glides on it making her toss around and hug me
But I'm not sure how to feel about her
Were you?
I wish you were
and honestly so.

The long happy honey waves she wore are short to a grim pixie now
When was the last time you saw her?
Did she smile?
Of course she would have
then left it right there with you
and willfully so.

Steam rises and she walks out with a towel crowning her head
Everyday she scrubs some part of you off of her
or so she thinks.
And every time she closes her eyes
she remembers the spokes in your iris
and vividly so.

© 2015 Neha Choudhry