by Pallavi Ghosh
(New Delhi, India)
Gazing at the bedimmed stars,
Staring at nothing but skylight,
I float.
Like an uprooted tree,
Without any myth to hold on to,
I float.
Droplets of water enter my capillaries
And weigh down on me;
Making me bloated and heavy;
But I do not mind...
I think of water like an extension of me;
It does not like to be in-between.
Halfway in and halfway out;
And then the rumours go about.
Not this and not that;
The mad woman with the hat.
Put it this way,
Even death sounds poetic, doesn’t it?
So drop by drop I drown;
Losing my buoyancy;
Moments from now,
I will be a drop in the ocean;
I will be the ocean;
I am the ocean.