deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Christmas Eve

The sole of her artificial feet were warming the snow flakes
On the Christmas Eve,
I could have stared at her to make that moment immortal
And frozen myself like an epic monument that denies harsh weather.
My breath gave birth to smokes that could have invoked her from within to melt forever
On the Christmas Eve,
As if all other live forms on earth were condemned by the single word, “STATUE”.
There was an edifice behind her that was once a church burned long ago
When some tribes were killed in religious procrastinations,
Now she moved past her like any other woman could have exhausted after love-making.
Maybe many more Christ’s will be born tonight,
On the Christmas Eve.
Written by anandosen
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