She

a poem by Rishita Keshari

Back when tigers used to smoke
A girl controlled the power of all the roars
She grabbed the unblunt against the shine
Her hands killed the men snake like

Leading edge, she rested in this century
Flowing her soft side to the world
She burnt within her soul
Surrounded herself with demons
She kept her down

She tries to hold the cutlass
But the realness pushes away the achieving surplus
She’ll rut out of isolation one day
You’ll be the one to be crucified someday