Refugee...

There is a worm in my heart,
some told it is a tubifex,
sucking the blood,
making me feel a pleasure,
a pleasure pricking the heart.
Taking my lymph out
Keeping my virginity,
Swallowing my cells
it still moves in me
wuthering heights...
Up above the brain down to the fallopian it gushed...


No seedlings it left to grow to a sapling,
I played a black magic on it, it shrinked,
Spitting out the blood it died…
I never stopped
being rhetorical,
I questioned its origin.

The squeezed blood from it remarked—it’s from a decayed mortality,
Alas! I found its origin in your soul,
Struggling from an unbearable thirst,
And found refugee as a worm in my ventricle,
Without knowing, it is also a glacier, failing to see my body too making a way near its tomb…very near, still near at a hand’s distance…

Mahima Sabari