Mamihlinatapai

By Shrishti Bangera Kanekal

Silence, empty

and yet, so full,

it’s spills, pouring over the edges of sound,

a silence filled with unspoken and sacred words,

the constant looks of longing and desire.

We sit in this silence,

you and I,

Hesitating, waiting,

desperate for a chance to grasp at.

Chance arrives—when your eyes fall onto mine.

Your glance brushes my own.

A spark?

No—a slow, crackling flame, an echo,

something more divine than words could possibly begin to describe.

The collision of hearts.

A shift. A blink.

We do not speak.

We do not dare to.

The silence is overflowing, beyond the measures of pouring,

forcing us to drown in the words we crave to say and hear.

Drowning—I am drowning in my desire.

And you’re drowning too, aren’t you? 

What do we even want from one another?

Is it love? Relief?

Is it simply to be seen, 

and met there,

without needing to ask?

I know my eyes are swimming in the sensation in which I’ve drowned in,

I see that reflection from you,

you who ignites a flame within me,

only to extinguish it just as fast.

And honestly, I, too, am doing the same to you.

I almost reach out,

“Please, could we stop pretending?”

But I do not.

And you do not either.

So we stay,

poised between confession and retreat, 

the feeling so claustrophobic.

I am sinking.

The words I wish to say are pulling me under.

Why can I not admit how I feel?

Why will you not save me?

Waiting.

Willing.

Wishing.

Wordless.

And in that exquisite, impossible pausebetween your wanting and mine,between the "yes" and the fear of it —

We live in Mamihlapinatapai.

By Shrishti Bangera Kanekal