Maitreyee Joshi

I stood infront of her years later, in the winter watching her struggling dormancy. Her
carmine lips, as they turned blue with coppery blood flooding down. As the fiery low lights
were replaced by a chunk of wan skin. Her turgid warm brown eyes that blotted with rosy
bloodstains. The overwhelming guilt of her struggled had summoned me for years but it
seemed impossible to witness her decline.