you can't scroll away when the rubber-tree-tops

do the silhouette challenge— for the earth humans

merely tiktok by

the system is in night mode now

the streetlight blinks a blessing on the road

as someone somehow carries someone somewhere

on the road

the churchtop cross glows crownthorn red

in front of the mountains

the mountains like

earth's waveforms slightly out-of-sync

the mountains that my grandpa said he used to climb

everyday in his youth used to smoke upto 20 packets

of beedis—

all this for one strained beckett-breath

he's dead but the mountains not

elucidate upon the theme of transience in the poem

'the photograph' by shirley toulson (5 marks)

on my back looking up there are no edges

a cloud's casual hand wipes away the moon-stain off

the sky-face but it returns— that persistent cosmic pimple

i wish my feeling better wasn't based on the realization

that someone has it worse

i envy those who find clouds to be smoke & sky to be mirror

but envy catalyzed by gratitude becomes a naïve admiration

i wish i had something positive to grow around

i wish i don't know what can i wish i don't know

nightfalling is a hushed arm on your shoulder calling you

closer to tell you a secret—

the sperm tells the ovum a secret—

she lets him in— a factor shape-sings a secret for its chromatin ears

the secrets simmering on the surface of us keep us alive

fuck you mountains

my secret will live longer than you

longer than the earth

but for the nightfalling now— let's be

who else to be with? where else to go?

i'm already here the chai is getting cold

even the cottoncandy clouds will melt in the mouth of time

but the secret will stay here forever&ever in rhyme

~ ajay

22/4/2021