each song i sing i sing for you
pangs of birth separate the soul the breath that was, is now no more a part of the whole broken breaths are brown puffs of cigarette butts swamped down the drain hole she toiled and toiled and toiled to settle into the prism of precise identity sharpening the edges for that shine that will breakthrough the ignominy of the fair girl fairy tale. she toiled and toiled and toiled to rub off the raw smell of humane living miserable and failing miserably. Then she met the fairy tale of ardhanarishwar1 telling her it it is it is okay the nari and the ishwar seemed to be benign. her stomach grumbled, angry skies about to explode. even here she is but a subject, an object of infinite possibilities, yet, not infinite ever. walking along, she met her own body. dancing to the music of desire and life. she washed off the black eyes of assumption. soul b r e a k i n g >crumbling< later she sat down by the river and watched it flow. _______________ 1 ardhanariswhar refers to a mythological figure. it is the holy union of Parvati and Shiva, Parvati being 'nari' or woman and Shiva being 'ishwar' or god. 'ardha' means half.
SUSMITA PAUL is Founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Pine Cone Review. She writes poetry, flash fiction and flash nonfiction. www.susmitapaul.org