ABED WITH FEVER, YOU ARE FREE

Abed with fever, you are free

like space journeys
in science fiction.
At times, a beehive of sweat bursts out,
like the invasion of memories.
The mate who was drowned,
the radical found missing,
and shrieks from road mishap:
they all merge into one;
like in exhaustion
after hedonistic orgies.

At times, you freeze in snow-fall.
Beyond the vessel's glass window
the snow-men of fairy tales
and nymphs from diaphanous deep-seas
merge with those sardine-eyes
of childhood
like under the warm blanket
in a shivering December night.

At times, you fly in blue wings.
past mountains, green terrains.
Above ocean's infiniteness,
limbs dissolve into a solar system;
in light-speed, thick hues

knots of life turn layers.

Juvenile eagerness

and youthful rebellion

would merge one with thunderous

revolutionary dreams;

like scarlet evening sea
of a surreal ship-wreck.

At times, mother's sobs

would send tremors inside.

Father of confused memories

would pine:

my life for this one's living.

As the exhausted wings

get ensnared in scorching sun,

you plunge down
plunge down
struggling...
…..
“It's been six years since Ma died...!”
she exclaims. In her tender eyes-
a tiny speck of envy.