Oh, Mother! How your eyes gleam cannily
How your dainty laughter engulfs the cries
Of riot and of broken visages
Your swarthy skin scented with sandalwood
Chasing away the smothering smoulder
Your sari of brilliant ochre silk
Blood drops smearing the corner, matching the
Bindi on your forehead, tongue dry with dread
As you dab at the wounds of those on their
Knees, worshippers in front of their goddess
Your lullabies hushing me to sleep while
Goddesses scream in alleys dark, gnawed apart
Oh, Mother! How stunning is your sari
In tricolours, glittering saffron and
Emerald green; alluring blue glint in your eye
How well the cloth that drapes across your skin
Conceals the long gashes of scars stretching
Over your flesh, dividing your warm touch
Oh, Mother! How charming is your echo,
In the silver glass you ponder upon
I could almost never discern the taint
The scarlet stain blooming across your chest.

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