Supriya JWhy do poets lie? /How do poets die?Painted mask with a painted grin. I carry the corpse of a poet within.Feb 16, 2022Feb 16, 2022
Supriya JMy heart - an ancient citadel that smells of rain.With fragile boulders and dust-filled crevices.Oct 4, 2020Oct 4, 2020
Supriya J“What’s your favourite colour?”I was once asked, What’s your favourite colour? And I could not say a word. I have now figured that out.Sep 16, 2020Sep 16, 2020
Supriya JThe morning reverieEarly morning breeze, rustling of the leaves. Mist in my hair, magic up my sleeves.Sep 4, 2020Sep 4, 2020