Counting the Horizons

Counting the Horizons

Tonight I count my scars and wounds all wrapped
Beautifully, like a sunflower maze
And in the existence of evil and angels
I criss cross my wrists
To count the underneath skin further.
The algebra is submerged like a colossal building
Sinking under the mole of my chin,
My mole is as dark as the truth hidden.
Somewhere between the ships departing
And the masks of people, my skin goes missing
Like a conundrum caricature of monsters and
My porcelain tongue screaming,
I discover, a thin red thread of lies and morality
Clashing and clinging my swollen breasts
Oh, human!
Thy art is a charisma, Thy existence is timeless myth.

Devika Mathur

Devika resides in India and spends her time hunting words and swallowing literature.
She has authored her book, "The travesty of soul" and her poems have been published in Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, The Wagon Magazine , whisper and the roar, Sudden Denouement, Two drops of ink and elsewhere.

She writes for her blog


  1. Skillful blending of the personal with the mystical.

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