Sleepyhead Poem by Ritika Nath

Where do we go when the black blank blanket covers us?
Under which sky? Whose moonlight? Glistening stars...
'Listen—'
'What? '
'Nothing.'
Seashell eyelids dozed off.
Where do we go when the baritone remembers the dark patches, the blackness, dark droplets?
Weeps for rain under my crooked umbrella?
Rain...rain...
Seashell eyelids don't devalue your precious pearls.
Rain may come, storms may come, hailstorm may batter my hand,
it may bleed, bleed until it becomes a —
'Becomes what? '
'Nothing.'
His black and white sketches, her colourless stories...
tinsel city! Value the pearl over crystals.
'Rusty razors? '
'How could I? You took away my hand from me, it belongs to you now, remember? '
Night, beautiful night, take Icarus away from this salty - dirty sea of worldly affairs.
Don't let him fall.
Take the flame away, put it up in the sky with the silver moonlight
among the stars where the aerial entity shines.
One day maybe guilt will shine brighter than the scorching sun,
still the little pink dream will wait an eternity.
Sun, don't collapse my air under earth,
don't shut the aerial with affinity,
don't judge, don't labell them as humans.
Don't judge.
Let the night sleep.
Never wake the little stars up from the calm, aerial night,
never wake the yin from the yang.
Let the seashells sleep...
let the pink pearl...
Sleep.