Oh, Nivedita Shori, you just raised a whole lot of questions for me, like whose attic it was and…
Tamyka Bell

Pickled Truth. Freely roaming lies.

Making the abstract concrete.

The daughter of the house,
The pure truth — 
hidden, forced into cinders.
Too precious to discard
So, pickled for her advantages.

Roamed freely.

Photo by Kyle Head on Unsplash

Thanks for prodding me on further.

(An exploration of my original post Tightly pickled in response to Tamyka Bell’s prompt Preserve Truth)

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