TWI Poetry: Prosthetic Beings

Divisha Chaudhry

I hug you
You hug me
The prosthetic gods are born like this

We all contain divine elements
It is the present that is rusted
and so when we hug

We become something plastic
Something which we manufactured
Patiently, tediously and diligently

We hug
We become someone extraordinary
Something polished and

We dissolve into our prosthetic parts

That cling against our insides,
pierce our natural side
and turn us into metals 

And particles that are destructible 
We like this side 
and like that we can destroy others and say goodbye

Now we can say we outgrew our rusty parts

You and I, when we hugged 
We grew on our rusty parts 
And now we rust to grow some more.

A 21-year English [research] undergraduate and a South Asian woman who explores literary arts to channel her thoughts and advocates for Intersectional Environmentalism. Divisha is a wild spirit who is trying to manifest a slow, more present life and still wondering how she has managed to come this far:) Find Divisha on Instagram



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