“a gift of jewels”
draped in cloth of red silk,
she is the jewel of the dawn;
her eyes match the morning mist.
ancient words were chanted rapidly,
their hum a chaotic comforting.
gold rice matches gold thread—
and suddenly two becomes one.
“turned out to be rocks”
red tinted hands fade,
their colour a whisper
of perhaps better times.
soft words are spoken;
a tragic attempt at
gluing back a vase.
the hum is no longer,
filled instead with spite.
an undone gold thread—
and one becomes two.
Maanasa Epuri is a senior in high school who writes in her (rare) spare time. Born and raised in America, she tries to include her Indian heritage in her writing. When she’s not writing, she can be found watching crime shows or eating chocolate.