Straws

by Reena Prasad

If I could comfort
by sending a happy thought
to dangle upon your window sill,
swinging itself up and down like a monkey
in the hope that you could find in it
a glimpse of something well loved,
lost to the hurrying feet of time

for a desire
to see a fleeting smile,
a slight decrease in the number of furrows
seeps into me …

as you tear yourself apart
to pull out the shining stars
that gnaw and bite your insides
and pour your love all over the table
to become a specimen
for everyone’s delight .

They see beauty in the raw sewage
and applaud all the broken bits.