She Escapes the Only Way She Knows How

dried flowers poke their heads

out of the battered book spines

a discoloured petal stuck

in the dog-eared pages

 

to the right sits a sparkly 2” by 7”

a pun etched in typography

the bookmark has evolved

 

biting cold air of the winter night

slaps against the window sill

flirts with the cocoa mug

kisses the fluffy vanilla marshmallows

seeps through the blanket – until

the warmth of the words fights it

 

so long as she sits behind the spine

they can’t get her- neither zephyr nor gale

it’s a moon-wrapped night, she reads the words

words return the favour, without fail.

 

[Kritika Narula – @Kritika_n_books]

Image courtesy of Isabelle Ribe.

 

The rest of the stories in qmunicreate #11 can be found here.

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