colossal light

Truth be told, the endless spark

of pain that jolts me awake each

morning is as indispensable

as the morning itself: sharp blade

of blue, through the trees

the most intricate commandments.

Days are long; the months bring

with them a repetitive grief. I tire

but keep interest in our routine–

the ants of September, memory

of violence, anticipatory anxiety

full flush. In the sun, it is difficult

to believe that summer is gone.

What is this now? this drawn-

out sigh, the curtains meeting

shyly at the window. As lovers

once we were wild but this year

we find our hands writing

small, tame letters that motion

towards the sky but never

speak the name of love.

ADITI NAGRATH is a poet, art therapist, and part-time monster based out of New Delhi, India. She believes that the only way out is through. All of her poems are dedicated to you.