The graphite sky broke like an egg on cherry floor
and just like that
I was consumed with a sense of loss;
why couldn’t I have been more careful while carrying them?
the mere expectation that an omelette can only be cooked
in a certain way, what about fillings?
Both raw and cooked, sweet and savory, why does one forget
that there is always a starting point—the only calibration
so that it can used in the exact way is the list of ingredients,
longing for the impossible
never really helps, I thought, getting rid of the scattered pieces,
all the while picking myself up from the floor;
these half-tones of human conscience that plague, we make mistakes,
make lots of them before finally establishing a firm footing.
I pause to let the eggs heat slightly and then stir vigorously,
freshly ground black pepper, like thunder clouds obscures everything
that lies ahead,
why does it feel like we have exhausted our emotions
and there’s only emptiness remaining?
The beauty of inconvenience,
the batter once again falls flat and along with it chiseled face,
I am not superstitious but at this rate even a black cat
would be cause for jumping,
glossy black hair covered in a masala mess of a situation,
I wouldn’t say I have missed it,
it’s certainly not a keratin treatment for which one pays
a ridiculous amount—we are yet to be written, yet to be concluded,
finely chopped herbs: basil, tarragon, chives
and thyme, let’s start all over again, I am at a point
when rhyming sounds like a better option, and yet
I smile to hear your honeyed words; in a way like sapphire rain
that speaks of night.
Poem composed on Day Twenty-two of April Poem-a-Challenge 🍲
Skylover Wordlist: Graphite, masala, obscure, loss, beauty 💝
Posted for Open Link LIVE #296 @dVerse Poets Pub