YOUR NIGHTGOWN IN BLUE

On one of the four walls
was a door.
I walked through that door,
& arrived at another four-wall.
One of those walls also had a door,
(With either mom or dad behind it),
A spinning ventilator next to it,
& a piece of shit that stained dry.

Here in your nightgown I dressed,
the one you wore when your head pressed against the wall,
& your cheeks turning pale —
I thought they matched so well with the blue of your dress;
How funny…

& that night I was in your gown,
his hand bulged some big blue lines,
some black, green & yellow wires growing out of it —
Those colors kissed my arms & merely red they’d become.
From that, I learnt our flesh could change colors
depending on what kind of sin we bear with us;
Yet mine was so red,
& it didn’t fit the blue gown of yours —

I lit up a cigarette, soaking wet & half-burnt,
should be peed on by that man, who’s always pissed off.
I dragged a long puff,
& let parts of my body out through a trembling mouth,
by sneaking into those whirling propellers,
They could at least retain their whiteness
elsewhere;
At least not in this room,
where walls are shat & doors are shut,
& not even your nightgown
in blue.

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