Lover, I'm sorry
but I am not always flesh blood and bone
I'm not talking of reincarnation
I don't know about metamorphosis
but sometimes
after days
I lose myself.
They say we are made up of
millions of pieces of stars
that my right hand
is made up of the dust
of a once-sun
but somedays I just feel like dust.
It feels lonely to be made up
of something
that died so long ago,
whose home is in the sky
and would blow away
given a moments notice
to get back there.
I don't want to be lost in the wind
if you are here.
Once, I crawled through the soft
sleepy sheets of your bed, to tell you
that today I was made of shells
every time I moved my fractured body
I could hear pieces of me grinding
against one another
pieces that did not fit perfectly
but left pockets of air throughout me
when i reached out to touch you
a gaping hole appeared
in my chest
you could see right through me
I do not want to be made up
of the armour of dead molluscs
no matter how tough they are.
For a time
before I met you
I was a ghost
it started with
my shadow softening
voice dampening
the tips of my fingers fading
one day I looked in the mirror
all I could see left of myself
were the bags beneath my eyes
packed and ready to go
it hurts to look at
when your body is a whisper
of something you said
as a sad child.
Tagore said
he found his lover in each life
I'm not talking of reincarnation
I don't know about metamorphosis
but lover, with you
I am solid
I promise you
my temperamental body
is yours
in all its forms.
