The Pearl in the Hill’s Lap

By Priyanka Kuckian

She walked on a floor of
White petals, a crown of
Thorns around her ankles.
Drops of blood.
Turned waterfalls puddles in
Empty vistas, finite horizons
Stretch on endlessly. Each
Step a deathless death.
Until in the desert of white roses
She came upon a hill staircase
Going up, but leading down.
She undid the crown of thorns.
Her palms bleeding, she placed
It on her head. Where it would
Lead she did not know. And so,
She climbed inside
The pearl in the hill’s lap, on an
Unknown night.