A Night on a Rooftop in Delhi

Acuity afoot, body and mind. Everything is tangible, yet overwhelmingly so.

I cannot fall asleep to this drum beating inside my brain.

The fan whirls my anxiety up and up—it will not come down.

Up the stairs, past the bolted doors, the rusty gate, the chill on my face.

Insecurity and uncertainty join me on the edge of the railings.

A stifling humidity keeps emotions from surfacing and cleansing, this ordure inside

—they boil, but never spill. I run, I stamp, I yell—but nothing comes to.

A thin membrane of concrete between my hosts and I, I apologize.  

+ There are no comments

Add yours