by Poornima Laxmeshwar

When you become a mother
You choose moments
Of the melodramatic life that you once lived
Conceal them under the thin sheath
Of a summer sun
Especially the faulty ones

When you over-drink yourself
Puke on his shoes
Make love like the world is the end
Get pregnant like it’s not your fault
Plan the abortion cursing the guilt coated soul
Forget about it like it never happened
And slowly push it under the darkness
Of your master bed

Until one day
When your daughter unwraps
The yesteryear
Your umbrella of clean marriage
Starts to get blown away
In the storm of
Well behaved manicured expensive secrets

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