Opaque

In your sweater
I feel a hint of summer
The incomplete arguments, the silence suffered
Ambiguous statements…
All during the monsoon
I just sit and watch
The dark clouds hovering the moon
Until it disappears and appears
Like your face
Under the pungent breath of your whiskey
I smell the lies
I can peel them just like my onions
And let the tears drop like afternoon rains
But in our long marriage
There is no rainbow
It’s just white and black…
It either is or isn’t

 

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Hydrophobia
Will you name me a poltroon if I say I am fearful
Of water, of the depths it withholds and of the secrets
It keeps unrevealed
Water makes you hold your breath, clogs your lungs
And then your face bloats, eyes swell, not in a pleasant way
It makes you look like you are dying
And even if you are dying no one else will know
You just don’t merge with it
It happens only on those canvas paintings, where water is masqueraded
It’s a silent lurking monster, a loathing phantom
I know how it is to drown, never to see the sunlight again
Understanding the worth of each breath that life offers
And you feel life slowly loosening its clasp
Releasing you to the obsidian abyss… forever
He asks me to learn how to swim
He says swimming will heal me
I can surf those high tides soulfully
After all even his body is
An ocean with drafts that lie unexplored

 

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Poornima, an MBA in finance , works as content writer for a living.
Her haiku and poems have appeared in several magazines and
anthologies. She resides in the garden city Bangalore, India.