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  • Ayesha Patel

Endless Mortality

6.30.17


She comes to me When stakes are high, revenge is low. A shadow unearthing all my secrets My solemn despair. I breathe in her love, rejoice in her divinity. She is all that I cannot fathom to encompass. She whispers in my ear In moments when I feel still. Too still. To breathe, to love, to hope. She gives me air, she is my breeze. A gentle nudge. Why is it that I do not feel like her Why am I not her if I am created from her essence How can I love so deeply, when that which I love is not the love seen within me?

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