Prachi Bhardwaj
there's a silence to the act
of standing at the seashore,
as the waves rise, float and
plummet on my throbbing feet,
a prayer falls from my mouth
and surrenders all the parts
of me I purposely made up in
my daydreams last summer.
~ maybe, sea and cemetery have the same smell
How beautifully the poet captures a moment that has depth of a lifetime…