By Vidhi Ghodawat
cage the elephant in the room
throw a blood red drape over it
close your eyes shut, zip your lips
there is nothing to see, to talk about
when we are as ruined as a bombed city
be careful of the smoke, it infests
your lungs more than my parasites ever did
although you were used to toxins
flowing through your body, my words
drive you up a wall but the bricks are too weak
i speak, you crumble, i read, i mumble
you tried your best to put a lid on it
but my blanket knows me better than you do
my mother knows me better than you did
everybody knows me better than i do
but like i said at the start, there is no
elephant in the room, none that we can see
so let’s talk about how you let me down
by feeding me lies like an incoming airplane
it was funny, wasn’t it, at the end?
how it all disappeared into thin air
or was the air thick? i couldn’t remember
anything but your dry eyes
you don’t cry easily but one might
expect another to break down as a loved one
is stolen from them, from the rotten
hands of an undying son of an unyielding God
for you, it was all part of the plan
it was really fun while it lasted
it was the best thing in your life until
i got too warm for the summer
you were putting everything into the attic
with photos of your childhood. you were blonde
i was always a brunette and i will always
love you more than a fable you put
all your trust in. sometimes i think you
would like me better if i was just as
far fetched and imaginary. but i wouldn’t
want to offend you like i never knew i constantly
did. you told me that before leaving. yes,
i remember that. fighting for myself, for our
nonexistent future daughter with your green eyes
is the biggest crime in your christian laws.
i admit it was partly my fault but why
am i the only one filling the jell-o air with
endless apologies while you sit there quieter
than the invisible elephant. too late,
the silk was too soft to stay. the elephant is out
and it insists you talk about it. it begs.
it waves its extravagant trunk up into the air,
clears the smog. but all i see is a dead girl
and a boy who was never there.