By Sristi Sengupta
It is easier to listen to the crickets
with my eyes closed, but I know
you just flew over the roof of the cottage,
Ghost-man, why do we have to be
in the same part of the forest right now?
Oh, you are here to listen to the crickets too
Or maybe you have something else
in your mind. Your rotten breath is melting
the frosty air. Is it because of that shovel wound
that dislocated your jaw? Some of your teeth
are missing and some of them are sharp from decay –
you’re balding in patches that have caught mold
and somehow there are bits of hair growing
directly from your skull – does it hurt
when the crickets’ song gives you goosebumps?
Your eyes have shriveled up, you cannot see
the moon even if you tried. But, Ghost-man,
you can stay. The closer you draw
the louder the crickets cry. If you leave the night
will fall silent. Besides you cannot eat someone
who falls in love with everything that disappears
when she opens her eyes.
Sristi (who also goes by Musu) is a non-binary writer, poet and painter with AuDHD, living and working from Kolkata, India. Her work has appeared in The Burningword Literary Journal, Of Life On Other Stars, and The Hindu. She is an alternative healer and educator and comes with the promise of a method to her madness. If there’s anything at all that she cannot make a promise about, she would most definitely blame it on her cats. Her favourite themes cover anxiety, fear, disillusionment and whatever lies beyond the normative perception of high adrenaline.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 