Poems by Shloka Shankar

Warped

We curled back into the silence.
Do you remember what it was like?
I watched you roll over.
The unflinching darkness was my shroud.

Do you remember what it was like?
You had the last word.
I watched you roll over.
The last star faded from my view.

You had the last word.
It was past midnight.
The last star faded from my view.
My thoughts cascaded into nothingness.

It was past midnight.
I watched you roll over.
My thoughts cascaded into nothingness.
We curled back into the silence.

Concentric Circles

I blow on invisible wounds
for a lifetime.

A few stray seconds are neatly
bunched up in a scrunchie,

triggering memories from a previous
incarnation.

The circles on my bedspread
are concentric – like ripples
of failure.

I cover myself in the remains
of a bruised ego, an eggshell,
and the smell of incense.

Did I stop trying even before
the beginning of time?

Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer from Bangalore, India. A contributing author in over two dozen international anthologies, her poems and visual art have appeared in various print and online publications including Silver Birch Press, The Other Bunny, Yellow Chair Review, Text Magazine, Straight Forward Poetry, Poetry WTF?!, and so on. She is also the founding editor of the literary & arts journal, Sonic Boom.

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