Taking Shape featuring Pritika Krishnakumar

How must I walk through this life
To come out smelling of roses?
Those flowers with teeth just under
Their velvet petals.
Am I supposed to smell like the petals
Or do you take into account the whole being.
My shadow with my light.
My softness with my stiletto spikes.
How must I walk through this life?
Tottering and dancer tall.
Clodding with square purpose.
Lurid red, spinning wild.
A goddess with a score to settle.
Trails of blood and warm feeling.
Seen, heard, acknowledged, feared.
Or soft like a ghost.
A person with no shape.
Just a vague smell of flowers.