March 2026 – elancharan gunasekaran

spring morning the tide kneels before the coast and wears a mask of devotion

before the touch of lips before the raising of glasses before the birth of consciousness inside white pods bodies spasm to life at the push of a button

geography remembers: the paths and scars of razor winds

another mouth of many stitched to the ribs whispers of: daggers in the dark

cold glow of grey a menagerie of extinguished suns kept in cages

a sliver of winter lives on in grey reflections of liquid and glass

the ritual gaze into the abyss and then: birdsong

the wraiths of night have followed me from bed to light

paradise hides from the watchful eye of the city: carried in a pocket deeper than any void

spring at first light a scene of limbs and bedsheets strewn