By Maya Nair
The mixture of thoughts-
a complex internal turmoil
So crammed that it is unfit for stirring,
so inseparable that no longer
essence of sharing it exists.
One thing it propels her to do is to act now.
She is unaware what her action will bring forth
just as she was unaware about the beginning of it all.
She asserts that she has taken
enough breaths to know what is living.
Life has emerged to vanish,
channeled into a chaos-causing tube
which she endorses into explosions.
She does not know
exploding eyes can't sleep
She does not know,
she can't search
for translucency in ashen blood
or she can't find a womb
in distorted air.