Legging out
Of that two-roomed quarter
My father drew me
The first time I shifted
To another city for
Studies was not less
Than a breakup
The way I had snuggled
Those nude desolate walls
With the cement of care
And compassion
And a chaplet of hellebores
I had garnished at the foyer
Everything came across
So flare and familiar
Like the slivers of a charade
That alone pillar in the space
With which I lounged first
After Abba left squawked
Of my chuckles and chats
The barn red counter still
Scented of the lemons
And lablabs and the
Bald shelves were
Camouflaging my tears
Of the day I barbecued
Horrible Murgh Musallam without
Amma being there to
Dictate how much spices
And how many of the simmers
And the place where
I analyzed was window side
Hidden within a salmon-yellow
Shirt with little dry yarrows in pockets
A keepsake of my boyfriend
The wall behind my back
Was like my mother on periods,
The sidewalls my friends
Loaning ears to my chitter-chatter
And the shelf piece behind
Resisted my Grandma's unfit
Citrine beaded bracelet that
I used to don and carry
With me as her being around
The other room was
More like a drawing room
Despite no one visited considerably
So I muffled there my off-season
Clothes and pennies in the closet
And a mud pot of
Raw mango water pickle
On unclothed cool floor

woodsorrels_

#nostalgia #stardust #writersnetwork #miraquill