Poet : Oohini Mukhopadhyay
Looking outside that framed functioning
I could see no more than just a colour
A colour that was neither black, nor white, not grey, not one shade.
A colour that I wanted my skin to be, a colour that I was sure my eyes were searching, which didn’t come out of the rainbow, which was unmade.
Laughed at the nose that I was crafted with
I was in a need to desperate nakedness,
Somewhere I would not worry about being aware always about the way I functioned.
I wanted to be judged this time for my voluptuous dream and no decorative deception that I was always at in this rainbow world.
I wanted to be an assertion walking in and out where I wanted to shed all the dependencies that my existence had provoked.
I wanted to make love to myself and create a being in my darksome womb
I wanted to be ugly and have diseases that would not make me repel myself from my baby.
I desired the night that was not silent and moonlit,
For once I craved to conquer the fright that every step of mine was chained to.
I went into a great frenzy
And I became the glamorous canvas that every painter desired,
Which wasn’t made of paper.