Fabiyas M V Poet Free verse

A Monsoon Wedding

A rural priest
rolls and throws out
the wedding mantras.
The ritualistic ululation
and the music of 
a toot and drum
warm the monsoon up.
The bridal garland
like a noose
awaits a bride’s neck.
She bows her head
in rural Indian coyness.
Our groom learns to forget all
beside the glitz of dowry gold.

A burning wick 
yields to the darkness 
beyond the nuptial rhythms.
The froth of cheated love 
runs down Miss Hema’s chin.
She is stranded on 
the bluish eternity, 
along with the pressed 
love in her womb.
An opened phial lies
on the floor of a hut,
showing its void up. 

First appeared in print in Rathalla Review, 2014 Annual Issue

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Seosamh De Burca June 24, 2016 at 7:31 PM I like this, well written, you have painted the scene so well.

Kenisha Shines March 19, 2016 at 1:10 PM very well written! Fabiyas M V March 19, 2016 at 9:16 PM Thank you, Kenisha

Poet Destroyer A February 21, 2016 at 1:33 PM love it... LINDA Fabiyas M V March 19, 2016 at 9:19 PM Thank you, Linda. Sorry for being late to respond. Hope you are well. Have a lovely day!

Skat A December 25, 2015 at 3:42 PM Fab, thank you for sharing your poem *** Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! SKAT Fabiyas M V December 25, 2015 at 6:54 PM Thank you, SKAT. Wish you the same. Have a lovely day!