Jun 1, 2020
The Grip
A Free Verse Poem
The trajectory of your futuristic vision
travel into my heart like a laser light
You launch the missile of Our
hanging like a trauma in my head
I’m bound to motion sickness
My mind is claustrophobic when
you try to bombard it in the
confined space
Space which you call it
as a commitment
I would plunge into
the ocean of life
with you by my side but,
without any frills attached
Stepping into the unprecedented
tomorrow with a row of contracts,
agreements and bonds are like
making the Sun’s light to
fall on you at the same instance
stop it from hitting your shadow
You squeeze me
like your ketchup bottle
I tend to splash out and
spoil your white laced gown
It is a long journey
You choke it, we die
One step at a time, my love
Mellow down
Remember my love,
we are not traveling
in a space ship
to enter the orbit in
eight and a half minute
This space we share is our home
It is a prolonged phase
only slow-motion works
©Anitha Sankaran 2020
In response to the prompt motion &/or space; by J.D. Harms —
