The Sky Once Hit On Me

By Meghna Mallik

They noticed that, I think.

I cried once, upon a tuppence,

The polygraph said I should;

“But kindly,” everyone’s behest,

Didn’t they know

That I had cried before?

I laughed then, upon a tavern,

The roof reeked of tiny ghosts;

“Stop please,” they earnestly bled,

Didn’t you know

That I had never laughed before?

I screamed thus, upon a cat,

The washing machine cradled me;

“Quiet down,” the feline scarred,

It didn’t care

That a scream had died stillborn.

I searched again, upon the Chrysler,

The sky seemed a boundless ocean;

“Just once,” the waves uttered at last,

I didn’t care,

That a seabed lost another seashell.

No one noticed that, I hope.

By Meghna Mallik