Who told you your body is a temple?
A place of worship to be kept pious.
Their definition of pious.
So, you try your best to sword fight your urges, sacrifice your feelings and desires on the holy ground.
Ashamed of where your hands touched.
They burn you, they brand you with a word.
An unholy one!
Shame crash lands on your shoulder and covers you whole.
Shrinking into yourself, you make space for all the judgements.
How do I tell you that your body is a whole world even universe in itself.
You are The One.
The Source.
The origin and the end.
The maiden, mother, enchantress and crone.
Temple is too minute a word to explain all that you are capable of.
YOU ARE READING
The Blooms Of My Garden
Poetry'The Blooms Of My Garden' is divided into 6 parts. Every part deals with one theme and various emotions that are associated with it and how the poet deals with it. 1. Love 2. Lust 3. Heartbreak and Closure 4. Self-doubt and self-love, healing and b...
