a journal of fantastical poetry

The Sky Is My Heart

by Naru Dames Sundar

Out of the foam flecked womb, I sprawled on reed mats, an orphan son
— And the low tide rose, monstrous, gloaming, engorged.

For some dubious wrong, birch bark snapped against my tender palms
— And charcoal clouds splayed across a winter sky, drenching turgid rage.

In the unlit altar, my unseen lips brush his unseen chest, spread his saffron robes,
— And bolts of sun ran wet the hoary rime, dragged blossoms into spring.

But I was found out, stolen away into ancient chambers,
— Caged by honeyed cake and palm-wine and smoke-wrapped delirium.

Forever moored to the shore of summer's bliss
— Dreaming of unseen flesh, caged in saffron.

October 31st, 2015

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