Run along these glass corridors.
Hook to the canticle fall. And mop the ceiling mock.Chase your own shimmers. The ‘drown’ that floats.
Make me bend and swim. A Fish in its own blender.
The deluge of these unseen waters. That crosses from check to box. Paint me your coral creak.
I am ready to announce.
My guilt to these deaf hounds.
© Aakriti Kuntal