May She Be Seen

By Ayesha Oberoi

His voice is loud, 

His voice deep - 

His voice is heard. 

Her voice is quiet, 

her voice is shallow, 

muffled by a rag 

and her eyes blinded by the red cashmere of her Prada scarf. 

But, 

But her thoughts are loud, 

her thoughts are deep - 

her thoughts are unheard. 

They take birth in her head, 

Like a flower in the ruins, they feed on her chaos. 

Bound, trapped and tied, by the seal of her lips, 

they must slip from her tongue and bleed onto the page, scarlet. 

Escape. Solace, at last. Explosion. 

No longer blank, it now harbours the world's secrets. 

Secrets - because you know, and I know, and she knows, 

she'll never do anything that risky. 

Words, words on a crumbled-up sheet of paper,

thrown in the bin, and soon, emptied in the garbage. 

There is beauty in her words- dreams, promises, possibilities. 

Beauty that will never be seen.