Bonfire
We plucked stars, air brushed
constellations named after you,
somersaults on strings attached
let in air, for ties to breathe easy
in the mountains of letters we didn’t
write, didn’t post to addresses
we called our own, over a delta
of choices, sculpted in time with your
eyes on my face, my shoulder, in Morse
code, as we wait for the Universe to listen.
Growing years
If you find her on the way,
don’t tell her she is lost,
she’s not,
not lost,
not looking,
just fearful that she held back
much longer than day wore night
nights wore years and skirmishes
Laugh lines make way
tears smudge her ballads
but not any more, mascara
in place and lipstick, fuchsia
Look for her at the deep end
of the ink pot, she is looking to
swim back to her shore again,
sing again, fly, dance, walk
on her crows’ feet, check
the yellowed list of lust
again.
Backflip
The letters I write on water
reach your shoulders
You swim a w a y
from the delta
that tasted your birth
Waters burst as
your cries wore tides
that chose air that
made you
stand on gills that you still
breathe in water,
alone,
safe
nothing
They tried to drown you
In the name of birth, without an
Apology or even a choice if you
Want to be born, be, become…
About the Poet:
Barnali Ray Shukla, a Mumbai-based writer and filmmaker, has written poems that have reached readers across Asia and the West. Her first poetry collection "Apostrophe" was published in 2017. Her feature film "Joon" has won 17 awards and streams on Amazon across several countries. She lives in Mumbai, with her plants, parrot fish, books and a husband.