Fade; Dissolve
written by: Radhika Prabhu
@HereisRadhika
Summer is slashed with nostalgia.
A thousand blues writhe,
burn, deep
in the pit of your stomach.
The roof seems lower –
you fear banging your forehead afresh,
or slipping on its impassive floors,
as you try, again,
to dissolve yourself into four-cornered spaces.
You feel like a ship outside its bottle.
You fade, you arrive.
Maybe home is in our graves
and on our burnt pyres.
(Is that why the dead never return?)
Very often, the skies that end,
and the clouds that pass
drop liquid cities onto your unassuming palms –
unnamed maps, unfamiliar constellations.
You feel like the reflection of the ship on the bottle.
You fade, you depart.
Because we were pilgrims once,
now disguised as stable in sanity.
No city with its fringes,
no country with margins whimsically marked,
and no world with decaying edges,
can house just one home for us eternal,
eternal nomads.
- Fade; Dissolve - October 2, 2017
- Stitched Inside A Raindrop - September 15, 2017
