the layers I carry

monologues of transformation

Exposed

the thighs were bare
skirting up felt light
felt airy at times
and, eerie at times

trusted figures
rolled up their sleeves
slid between the skirt
with their bare free hands

exposed as it were
the thigh was fetishized
so were the armpits
so were the wrists and the ankles

I ‘zipped up’ my open holes
shriveling into a cocoon of itself
repressing it of the desires
reacting to preserve what was

Repressed

times passed by
the zipper stayed
as a part of an identity
I wore to not be

slowly only for it to fade
the skirting came back
I wanted someone to see
- take notice as I walked

falling back into looser falls
I needed to breathe
but I was wanted to not be wanting
to breathe

there was eeriness in feeling
the consciousness was of a spectator
when who I wanted to be
was who I didn’t want to be as

Stimulated

layering off
one after another
what I felt and how
holding on to how

scary as it were
euphoric as it were
the power it had
was uncontrollable

needed to be held
a grounding of a kind
to be and to breathe
while being nurtured

the surrender
of consciousness
is still many steps away
is hopeful to be

I’ve been lately reading some literary work and pondering on how fashion has been used in literature (in an online course ‘Fashion in Fiction’ by Gaurav Monga) and how it is a tool of not just expression but also a compose metaphors to define our experiences. I'm writing and creating some of my own pieces with words and visuals.

I’ll be writing a few more pieces as I reflect on experiences, do reach out, connect or react as you feel like.