How does your soul, so full and abundant,
Not spill and flood the world?
It begs your touch as a primed canvas
Starved of the zeal of a generous brush,
Whose strokes deplete all uncertainty.
Galaxies collapse and are born behind
Your idealist, kaleidoscope eyes
And daring to stand in the path of your rare overflow, I
Do, time and time again, die;
In the turbulence of your mind,
In the wrath of your autonomy.
I wear a jaw, gaping in awe
That aches from asking so many questions,
Hanging slack to consume all of your hesitant answers.
Brimming spirit of noise and color is alive in the dull and sparse.
That minimalist smile does not compromise your exuberance,
The fullness of your thunderous laugh.
I am broken, holding your gate ajar;
One eye going blind in the fray.
I look into the sun in the cage of your chest,
And its shrapnel brilliance nearly strips me away.
I haven’t the brawn to keep it open
But I am emaciated enough to slip through and be trapped.
I see now what you meant about catching lovers
As I am greeted with the bones crowding the chasms of your heart.
By Rohini D. James
Copyright January 2015
All Rights Reserved.