by Fabiyas M V
Roar abates. My sea is serene like sleep. They often gather here and disappear before the dawn. My dad’s smile like a crescent gleams again through our coconut palms – his words have lost voice, yet their cooling effect is still there. My grandma gives me my favorite fruit, calling me ‘Baby’ sweetly, and walks back along the shore. Whenever I had cried over my dry dish - a thousand times during my boyhood - she managed to give me a banana somehow. Now I feel the real taste of her voice and banana. Midnight is sometimes blue. A cat eyed girl creeps like a snake on the shore. All die, but all die never. First published in The Literary Hatchet.