‘A Blue closet’

My closet was blue.

That blue pervaded

around the room,

as it does in the sky.

It was 40 days from

Ash Wednesday.

And a beginning: to restrain

from habits and

be inclined to

a modest rule.

But, days passed.

One night before the somber Easter,

I could see my closet

Turn black, all black.

I became political.

Red was inside me.

That night I saw St. Ferdinand.

He felt,

I am the Savior of

the ochre painted earth.

He said-

let your closet be painted,

painted with the deepest blue

of the sky.

Fetch that color,

Do it on your own.

Only then

Can you remove the ochre

And paint it with

your own colors.

When the closet was blue again,

I understood, why

the Savior was I.

p> )
pc
^0]ormal>

like a player

of an erratic game,

but moved

even at 3am,

the grease

at 3am.

The game led her astray,

she never looked back,

but,

light is still there,

for today’s tomorrow,

and tonight’s fetish,

and you are there,

and there is no death

and no grief.