To be the rubric or not
To be the content or not
The metric tone of my heart
And the keen pulse in my palm
Words are clear
Horizon is paved
Yesterday’s snow is neatly dishevelled
Somewhere a tiny gap
a little puddle of pothole
an imperfection
a sighing breath
beating there—
the heart joining my heart
The sound echoes with the system
the system echoes that sound
that sound pulses in that trench
that trench beats my heart
Therein lies my heart—
the heart joining my heart
The merry
the merry
the merry
merry-go-go-go-round
goes round and round and round
beating to the ground—
a broken breath
heaving there—
the heart joining my heart
-
Chandni Girija
