She walks in Beauty,

like Byron said,

through visions, dreams, and memories,

Her hands and feet adorned

in delicate henna,

and she cools them in shallow pools,

under the bluest skies.

There is a light that sits

under her skin, and sets about her

an otherworldly glow.

The Bride, some call her,

others whisper: Ghost.

 

Nesha Usmani

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