if i were a bird, looking at a raindrop up close
mirroring the world and splitting it into the real
and the image, how would i make sure i don't
make my nest in the reflection?
i'd probably just fly into the storm to unwing myself.
but if i got stuck in the storm i'm storming out of it.
that's me, i guess. running away, all righteous.
we're watching paprika and you tell me it's just
like your bad trip. that night you kept asking me
to tell you the time, my voice your only thread out
of that labyrinth. when i was small i never dreamed
to one day grow up and become a talking clock
but there i was, ticking you the time every minute
and here i am, telling you i don't have enough time.
i hug you, instead, with my minute and my hour hands.
that's me, i guess. running away, alrighteous.
the next time i get stuck in a storm i'm becoming
the eye of it, letting the bird fly away to nest wherever it's warm.
~ ajay
17/5/2024
