there is a certain joy in diving

diving into my ruin like noonday

swallowing the dazzling sun so it’s not too much

to scorch you to a crisp


i was on the threshold of movement when

you noticed me, you told me to stand still

so i froze like there was no eternity to spill,

a wretched muse


through music you wanted immortality but

there was agony when you sang, so i

disembodied my voice, rose cold like a

siren, and you engulfed it


when you could sing you saw but the traces

of immortality, so i suggested you sculpt

a face of god propped against your chest,

and sing in its mouth


so sculpt you did with the finest of clays

a head of god but you couldn’t get its face

right, i sliced off my face to offer you,

you looked hurt but took it


with the face of a woman, you sculpted not

a god but a goddess, you kissed its purple

mouth breathing psalms into it, when risen,

you told her she’d always looked like this


now that you had immortality, she told you

it pained her to see another woman in the

room, you told her that I was just a faceless

mortal but she, wondrous divinity


but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, you

had to split the room, shift from east to west,

arm in arm with your wretched divinity,

while i stood still faceless, your forsaken muse

who forgot how to move

Ammara Younas comes from Gujranwala, Pakistan. Besides her regular job creating content, she enjoys writing imaginative stories infused with magical realism. Shes currently working on a collection of poems that weave together the tapestry of Greek myths and Pakistani folklore.

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