Museum

by Isha Fazili

As porcelain and stone we stood
Upon glass over water
My white fingers made to curve towards
Your carved grey smile.

Where the only sound is greed
And the only clock is light
And pillars of ivory marble glow.

Straight teeth and full pockets
Replace the red hands that sculpted us.

Your carved grey smile fractures
My curved white hands falter-

But tourists don’t like tears.

Laughter is as thin and brittle as
The glass beneath us
Which shatters with a crash
That echoes above us
In an ebony alarm.

The pockets lighten
The water carries
All traces of porcelain and stone away

So that the only sound is greed
And the only clock is light
And pillars of ivory marble glow.




Isha Fazili's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
Isha Fazili is a seventeen year old student and writer living in Manlius, New York.


Last updated December 01, 2016