#day21 #napowrimo #surrealism

How do I write a poem when I’m happy?
When everything is carelessly forgotten
and the eye is merely dangling in the horizon,
a bead in a coma

Everything is always in a coma, a lie and a truth

I know that, I’ve felt the crunch of blood
spew into my neck and wire back through the
tubes, pantocid like a perfume burn in the armpit,
burying itself deeper and deeper

Until it reaches the unreachable,
the dead, barren eye of the raven,
the raven with its black gaze turned backwards into the rhythm of night, forever singing in its naked self,

away, away from both dark and light

How do I write a poem when I’m happy
and I know that this happiness will wear
off like makeup in sweat, that everything perspires
and that which is won’t and that which won’t will

How does a poem find itself in a joy
so ephemeral and transitory, it flees your lips
before you learn to pronounce while
pain rubs against the body like a rope in friction

hissing only to remind of its existence

How do I write a poem when I’m happy?
I shut my eyes and put the thermometer in the navel
Measure its nightly darkness, its seeping finger of light
I part in ten thousand ways and screech like the raven

Sing of snow and leaf, alone in orange skies

©️ Aakriti Kuntal

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