There is a sunflower
erupting through
the simian crease
of my right palm.

I shed layer after layer
of salty skin
till the petals glow
in a rhapsodic rhythm.

I fear
this abrupt flowering
that I carry everywhere
like a mystery, an abnormal boon.
A disturbing comfort.

The day you left
I wept.
And since then
I am becoming
my own garden.

***

Painting: Sunflowers,1887, Vincent van Gogh (Met Museum, New York)

Chandrama Deshmukh

Chandrama Deshmukh is a post graduate in English Literature. Moonlit Monochrome is her first collection of English poems. Chandrama has authored two books of Marathi poems before that. Being an avid reader, photography enthusiast and a playwright, she believes nothing touches her soul the way poetry does.