NaPoWriMo Day 23 - Lines for Painting on Grains of Rice (after Craig Arnold)
A prose poem
Last night, I dreamed about you. A year ago, I would have lingered, holding on to the last wisps of the dream. But now I don't haunt the hallways of the dreams that have you in them. I have made perfect sense of what we were.
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On a warm April night, I saw a half-moon slung on a moss of ink, slicing the summer air with its menthol glow. With a squeal trapped in my throat, I strolled on the terrace with my demons, wanting to seduce the half-moon.
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You are not cut from the same fabric as me, but I won't wish death upon you. You have to wear that good-for-nothing look every day to enrage me. You have to bulldoze my mental health with your insolence. Only then can poetry thrive here.
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New leaves sprout from her every day. A single thread of root sits coiled inside the glossy water. She is the sanctum-sanctorum of our secrets. The nutrients that nourish her are our professional masquerades.
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If I write about it anymore, I will be overdoing it. But if I don't, I will be building a tumour for it in my body. So, here it goes. One of my fingertips looks like a scraped popsicle. Later I might just roll it on coarse sand to check if it can still know what it is to be alive.
~Kavya Janani. U
Apologies for not posting the poems on their particular days. I rarely get hold of my laptop. Please follow my Instagram page @kavyajananipoetry where I update the poems regularly.
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You can read my other form poetry here: Form Poetry by Kavya Janani. U