by Fabiyas M V
Roar abates.
My sea is serene like sleep.
They often gather here and
disappear before the dawn.
My dad’s smile like a crescent
gleams again through our
coconut palms – his words
have lost voice, yet their
cooling effect is still there.
My grandma gives me my
favorite fruit, calling me
‘Baby’ sweetly, and walks
back along the shore.
Whenever I had cried over
my dry dish - a thousand times
during my boyhood - she
managed to give me a banana
somehow. Now I feel the real
taste of her voice and banana.
Midnight is sometimes blue.
A cat eyed girl creeps like
a snake on the shore.
All die, but all die never.
First published in The Literary Hatchet.