Poetry

The Rapture of Her Soul

I wanna cry out aloud

As silently as possible.

But cry for that one hurt

Or for the millions that clog my mind?

 

I’m tired of listening to lullabies,

Of dancing monotonous steps,

Of smiling at condescending masks,

Of being haunted by ties…

 

Summon my voice I’d from over the ages

To sing a hitherto-unsung song,

Like the liberating music of the conch

Transporting a winged soul…

 

Let me dance those steps that would

Unwind the treacherous pleats and folds,

Unleash the fury of my curls,

Stir the sleeping dust to embrace the air…

 

Let me not burn the city,

But striptease my lies, my fears, my stoop,

Pull the blinds over the masks

Sever the ghost of an umbilical cord…

 

 

                                                                       ~ Lincy Ann Mathew 

                                                                     Chennai, India

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