a dark communion

the crow perched on the black railing,
our dark eyes confronted each other
for a moment,

he thought it to be inconsequential,
looked hither-thither and flew away
in a gust of air, that hung before me,
leaving a trance-like image,
right before my difficult breath,

if i were him, i would have done away
with it, but his nonchalance
only made me wary
of my own condition,

i am burning without fever,
i am shivering without cold,

the food has lost its flavor,
water, its pungent taste,
to drench the morsels of belief,

what if

this was it, this is it,
this would be all —

this unremarkable grey sky
reduced to my grey vision,
my pudgy, little fingers
no longer capable,

every thought bursting in its own smoke –
left-over chunks of an explosion –

this wrecked structure, this unused
view —

would i be afloat
when i fall?

~

© Anmol Arora 2018

For Midweek Motif at PU
Image source

***

I have been working on a new Insta handle for over a month now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.