how my eyes see your eyes
is a long story,
endless and reckless,
drowning and thriving,
it goes something like this
if words could be less maniac to me-
stage 1: I cannot look away,
they drive through me
like arrows shot right
piercing into the layers
of hollow hideous hideouts
and all of me pours out on you-
your fair skin no longer rosy,
you are being swallowed
by all of my dark entries.
stage 2: my bleeding does not hurt
when you look at me
with all your waves,
crashing on all my void restlessness-
I mouth your name is silence
as you blink again,
like years passed by in a moment
and walls come crumbling down,
did Moses make the path for me?
I walk to you in a daze
and my parts dust down
like monsoons came too hard
after a scorching century.
stage 3: no more scratching into the lines
on my skin,
I taste my own blood when I bleed
and healing comes with trumpets
the singing victory that I alone can dance to,
rainbows are shapeshifting,
enveloping me in all their colours,
I no longer count their numbers.
stage 4: your eyes are etched in mine now.
rainbow has black too, now.
the salt in my tears has found the shore.
I have run out of hurt to paint.
stage 5: I am in a nameless land,
there are no walls in my vision,
it is golden and green all around me,
I see your silhouette, distantly,
walking towards me.
I can hear your shy sighs.
Is this where Rumi told us about?
artwork: Romita Ghatak