Take me to the river, where the water glistens
a bluish-green, help me find redemption
in those colors of uncertainty, unpredictability,
unreliability, the tranquil murk,
where the swallows lurk, gliding, glistening
with dark brown Chinese fan wings and
a breast the hue of gravel, a raw delight,
splitting air and causing ripples.
Take me to the river, help me shed this
old skin like a snake during ecdysis, leaving
behind the past in the withered, haunted woods
and bathing in a darkened
rebirth, never knowing, never seeing beyond
what I must.
I want to love you so much more.
I don’t want to hate you anymore.
But I’m no Keatsian romantic.
And I’m no Drop D Shakespeare.
I’m just an ordinary man,
chock-full of fucking flaws,
as judgemental as Jehovah,
as conflicted as Corey Taylor,
as scarred as a guttural shriek,
as jettisoned as Judas.
So, take me to the river, let me run my
hands through your hair as the wind whistles,
let me you slowly kiss you on the neck as
night kills day, and we’re both dreamingly
and drearily lost in our space,
let me slowly undress you in that uncanny,
enigmatic way I do, and then the euphoric
ecstasy to the rhythm of the undying chirps
let us then bathe naked, nude,
finding in ourselves both the beauty and the
ugliness of moving forward, while the pale moonlight
places her blessing on our bare skin.
© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)
You’ll find more of Nitin’s work at Fighting the dying light