My body has been an empty canvas for as long as i can remember, with sunlight painting its words on it as i remove the shreds of sanity and tenderness, with the light accentuating my scars and revealing the tales of my victory in this battle with myself. This body has always been a barren land until you came and planted your seeds in the soil of my heart, whose roots go deep within my soul. Your fingers that ran down my neck and back left an intersection there that I am still afraid to cross. Your gleaming eyes when looked at my body from afar I could feel a thousand lighting bolts hitting me.

I am not an empty canvas anymore, for I have your words written on my skin like Braille, wanting to be touched and read. I have your claw marks on me from holding me on for a bit too long. I have you running in my veins and your pictures painted on me like the pictures painted on the walls of the caves that tell a different story to different travelers.

I am not an empty canvas anymore. I am an artifact that you preserve.

Muse: Nimisha Verma

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