Lamp black and camphor

And the oil of mustard

Become kohl




In your gran-na’s

Gnarled hands



I watch your strokes

Deft, adept

As it smudges

Lovingly, your eyes



On your eyelids

The black lingers

Smoky and dark



Like the monsoon skies

Before they let loose

Their bounty


14 thoughts on “Kohl

  1. This is fab!! I’m bad at poetry, so bad that I cringe even at the thought of writing it!
    Hence, admire anyone who can weave words so beautifully! πŸ™‚

    You’ve got a new admirer in town! πŸ™‚


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