The Route Of Desire And The Rishi* - Poem by Neeti Singh
A blank slate, that's what I am
when it comes to crowding the screen (or a page) ,
with trinkets of hunger, thirst, ambition, rage.
The graph of desire has a way of surfacing
between folds of clothing, thought layers.
Swiftly like a serpent it moves,
to the rhythm of throbbing need.
Desire is an animal - it could be many things,
a lion, a pig, bird, a fish.... anything
that stirs first in the space within
and then comes sliding out like a jinn.
*Maya: the mom-phantom, of all movement.
The spice lands of feeling are her fields,
the seasons of lust and living her yield,
and the jagged graph of denial her hell.
And beneath them all is
the naked wet skin of serpent sin,
slippery as temptation in the corridors of a heart.
Radiant and red, the bride's footprint falls!
Who comes knocking? I'm not at home
and yet I have opened
and answered the door:
Madam Maya! Look!
I too have moved and filled my room -
these frills, these bones, this blood, this boat -
with the sauce of vermilion temptation, your soul.
So said your foe, the Rishi:
It is breath that pulls the swing of tide,
that rise and fall, in the river of dye.
Follow the breath and find yourself, child.
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