The Monk

"You know, we are just drifters...

Always looking for a home

Just to leave it behind" were your last words

In the morning hours, you left me

Alone in bed, I slept like a baby

Cuddling close to your breasts

I didn't cry, I was quiet

Searching for the monk

The monk was there for me

From my earliest memories

Traveling through madness

Almost every day

In my dreams, I saw the monk

As white as snow

Just looking at me

We walked through the library

On a monsoon afternoon

You spoke words that still echo

"Aren't we all puppets to fate?

Merely living hand to mouth

Burning canisters of oxygen

And cursing Amygdala hijacks"

"Did you see the monk too?

Did you see his smile?

Did you see the summer

Slithering away

In the sands of time?

Did you fall asleep

In your mother's womb?" I had asked impatiently

And you smiled, no words

Perhaps, you were becoming I

I saw a drop of tear

As you wiped off the blood

From your depths

As spring was about to set in

And I prepared for a travel

Among the night stars

A call from the abyss

The last thing I needed

As I looked back

It was the monk from my dreams

The monk who helped me know

The monk smothered in my shadow