April 1, 2021
My body is currently out of shape
and I wish I could contort
and twist and make it elastic,
like a rubber band.
But then my daughter suddenly
wants to draw, her brush beginning
to stroke gently the steering boat that
is my lower lip, commencing from
where the cascading teeth stop to flow,
downstream, flowing smoothly
through the waddling waves of my waist’s
stretch marks when suddenly
a reddish-orange sun
promisingly peeps in an East-West direction
through freshly fragrant
marudhani/ henna leaves
of my palm and fingers.
Nearing the coast, there are black pebbles
of moles and blue birds perch
in assembled veins across
brown branches from outstretched arms.
It completes the picture.
All notions of shape and size disappear
into vacuum when I am the universe
Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh