Tag Archives: city

Edges

I cannot remember a time when I did not know
This rhythm pounding the earth into tiny pieces
And soft castles sculpted by tiny hands.
My fear of the great blue monster faded
As I ran along its edges.

I’d leave, but it wouldn’t let me go.
Echoes of its whispering curls,
The sand in my sheets four days later,
The stench of a delicate seashell in a pocket.

On a sunny December morning we stood
Feet away from death, while a ravaged river silently saved our lives.

And still
We escape at every chance we get
Alone. Together. We stand at the edge of the world
Our sandy toes caressed by a realm beyond ours.
Finally free to really see as far as the eye can see.
Rage, serenity, a playful caper
A sheet of shimmering silver at my feet
A roaring whisper
Recognized from somewhere just beyond the shores of memory.

I lie on a thin mattress on the floor
Of a room in a town not so far away.
This town has no edges;
There is no blue margin to contain
This monstrosity, this chaotic maze,
This uncontrolled explosion of humanity.
An oppressive cold dryness hangs over me
The silence keeps me awake.
A tiny reptile
Struggles through giant fingers
Towards home.

– Nandhini