Divya Venkat Sridhar | Poetry

because you worry  

your palms will chew up lamplight

and wear it like a cicada’s husk 

tethering you to soil. they told you 

better to slip into the sun.  

because you find yourself 

standing knee-deep in a muddy ditch, 

a denseness pretending to  

envelop yourself in a full moon. because

you wish to be formless, flawless, 

slither beyond shadow like sun chews

the gooseberry leaves.  

you morph from bed sheets to turmeric to 

whitening cream,  

body membrane unhinging  

from skeleton melting  

wings dripping sticky in white hot nectar

because you look like clouds 

eternal like the space between  

a thunderclap and echo.  

you drown, but it feels like flying.