'grip tightly'

don't let go
the lifeline

-my frantic appeals
meet with silence

I feel like standing alone
on the riverside
watching a night sky sans moon's nectar

Had I known
the language of water particles
I might have fathomed their needs
-do they speak
of small revolutions-in-wait,
the insignificant uprisings
that languish
inside a cul-de-sac of passive sighs?

A few words approach me,
scrutinize me
then recede

A petite shooting star
falls into my hand
and slips through my fingers

I curse my inability
to hold on

(c)Arunansu Banerjee
 
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