Forgetting

London is cold tonight/ My family is two years away/ 

Like a dramatic musical/ the unknown takes over me/ 

The translucent light lingers/ her eyes map across my face/

I see myself / through the opaque hospital window/ 

a crippling image/ of my grandmother’s essence/ 

old age satire/ making a mockery of me/

alien countenance/ the geography of her ghastly eyes/

Tiny evocations/ boxes unfold/ I believe she remembers/

of hills from her childhood town/ her father riding/

across fields/ living duels and taming horses/ 

old threads melt apart/ the ceremony of the vanishing melody/

nearby sits a mirror/ I watch it mimic a reflection/

revolutionary familial lies/ dressed as gospel truths/

it dissolves into antiquity/ leaving tints of blue/

they shall crumble/ like cracker biscuits in soy milk/

-Aishwarya Khale