Anew

Thooya Jeyapalan

Blurred complexions of cicada’s thrum

Under the crescent moon,

A melancholic glow.

I notice you weave your way towards me,

Through the thickening fog,

Through the bramble where berries lay beneath,

Where the beetles feast upon.

Mind the shrews hurrying about between your ankles.

They weren’t expecting you,

Neither was I.

After all these years,

You swayed me.

Speckled stardust on that luminous touch–

Organ dysfunction.

I discovered a place,

A bungalow nestled

So affectionately within these woods.

Apart from the city buzz,

Monochrome faded marigold.

Not exactly a palace,

But the aroma of budding herbs,

Hushed whispers of nocturnal beasts.

Porch light flickering, the hiss,

The reflection of myself in the nearby pond;

Ripples of blue crumbling into dirt,

A foreign object in your fantasy

Of a brown girl gnawing on serpents.

Lunacy swathed in silk,

What is more fleeting than a fragmentation?

Thooya Jeyapalan is a Tamil writer who slips away from the city of Mississauga through her stanzas nestled in nature and nightcrawlers. She is currently enrolled in the English Specialist program, longing for academia to magnify her writing and simultaneously propel it beyond its boundaries. She dissects generational trauma and the human condition in her poems and finds beauty in not knowing all the answers. When she isn’t numbing her pain with cheesy romance films, she’s outside with her dog, adoring everything and everyone dear to her. You can find her devouring philosophical works or intricately assembled sushi rolls.