Sharanya Sharma


god, i know why the bhagavad gita is only ever told to us through a charioteer by Sharanya Sharma

    maybe that’s how poets become thieves. when we taste you with another man’s eyes, a poem   toothed, gnawed through when offered: shabari’s fruit. now we unravel battlefields, ferret through   history, limbs tripping over vertebrae just to feel lightning slip a long, jagged finger across our   […]