The King Of Knots Poem by Devanshi Khetarpal

And all
Were tying
Knots.
Some said
They had
It straight.
But I knew
They were
Talking
Nonsense.

So, I held
A knot
In my
Arms.
It cut
Through
Sectile flesh.
And I looked
At marble
Floors
Through
My eyes
With the
Tongue in
My fog glass
View.

There was
Another knot.
It came from the
Kitchen table
Where
All used
To sit and
Cry their tears
On the pot roast.
That's why
It was so salty.
That was the
Persiflage
For the town.

Some held
The great
Knot.
Some said it
Was made of
Something
They didn't know.
He didn't get
The loopholes
Right.

There was
The one
From the
King of knots
And I looked at it
Too.
It broke the
Ruby glass
Table.
I ate a bowl
Of albedos
As a last
Bite.

It's been
A second
Since the
King of knots
Took me away.
Now, it's
Five seconds.