Deepti Sharma
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.
