Maya Memsaab

Her soul was diluted

She a water sign…

wiped off the remnants

of the myth

with yesterday’s newspaper.

And waved to him through the purple window.

 

He the air sign… drifted, 

after halting to water his soul with the vapour in her eyes.

The monochromes of 

his mossy smile faded 

like an afterthought.

 

The song of the mermaid was rusting in the dank corner

When she saw the wind sway  the gulmohar outside

The alchemy of deep safron and mint green

drank up the shallow emaciated soul

as her pristine white veil plunged into the deep ocean.

The falsetto in her song was no more wavering.

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