If She Calls


by Ashvin Mistry

Innocent breath, exhaled and let sail, 
across some forgotten memory I once thought was real.

She'd swept it up, 
churned and tossed siren of this sea,
to lay her treasures frothing in clandestine lights,
sparkling in front of me.

I waited, 
she came, 
lapping coyly on my gaze, 
crashing among broken fragments in search of a soul,
bathed in gushing flow of loves eternal hope.

Layered by visions, 
basking in temptations, 
tortuous by day,  
restless by nights, 
I succumbed to my deity and met a watery plight.