the extimacy of grief

upon leaving

the dying body

will borrow
its expressions from trees

those memories are old

older than breeze
older than the sea
older than the first breath

loss is larval like that

a delicate half-thing

a wrist bone
an eyelash
fire mumbling through leaves

its shadow, a mute speak
of a forgotten flash

now, the light in those eyes
wink
as if birds were
crossing their evening sun

all that will be left
will be earth

in the prism of twilight
i sift time
with the palm of my hand

let me be the pasture
let me be the animal bone
let me be the atom slipping from dead to new born

By Karuna Chandrashekar

Biography:

Karuna Chandrashekar is a psychotherapist practising in New Delhi India. Her work has been featured in A Blackbird Sings, The Sunflower Collective and is forthcoming in Eunoia Review and Anomaly Lit.