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ISSN: 0974-892X


January, 2013



Vinita Agrawal

Some Things I Have Left For The Precipice

The grey storms which I stalled from erupting on the family
as if stopping a speeding truck with a mere breath,
those breaths I shall consign to the dark edges of the precipice.

The white doves of peace that have been hiding from this violent world,
as if they had not a ledge to call their own,
those doves I shall seek and release into the vast empty spaces of the precipice.

Bitter words,  like thorns, still lodged in the heart, I shall pluck out 
and fling like baits to harsh winds - my final reverence to the universe of hurt.
No longer shall their poison stifle me, alveoli by alveoli over this precipice.

The smiles that wavered but stayed afloat like sailboats on choppy seas
I shall anchor to this last cliff, perhaps the air shall knit sparkling green moss
with these tensile strands of feminine forbearance as I float over the precipice.

A woman chooses honour over love, home over life and fortitude over surrender.
Such trade-offs pluck sinews from the body like vultures. Now I am bone-weary.
Now I am ready for the  release, the final  freedom, now I am ready for the precipice.

This time I won't stop myself from falling.