Nisha Raviprasad

Nisha Raviprasad

Carcass

the ugly writers
My head is empty so is this tomb I live in no shiny pebbles with me

The Tomb of Fear

as she lies in the dark sepulcher nothing but dust and bones kissed by corpulent whining insects

Dandelions

I swim into memories of my childhood and there I was, white puffs like tiny cotton clouds between my fingers