My winter comes
My winter comes in folds of skin, embracing sins, in stormy skies, and grays of eyes, in a blurred, hazy face, through a frosted, misted pane, in cackling, flickering flames and hushed, silent names, in parched, cracked lips against burnt finger tips, in low, dreamy sighs over cold, frozen ties, in slow, swaying toes on crusted, crisp snow, in warm, dewy traces within whispering, closed spaces, in ‘twined, tangled shapes amidst hidden, veiled escapes, in snug, singing smiles across forgotten, forlorn aisles.
Aaryaka Nidhi
Aaryaka Nidhi is a third year literature student at Hansraj College. In her writing, she paints cities within indistinct boundaries, spilling colours that mix and match, curling up in places that make them look like they belong there. Otherwise, she is generally busy spending time with and singing songs to her favourite dogs in college. She also believes that a can of Coke and a packet of blue Lays are the things that will eventually help us attain world peace.