Soak

I, willingly, with all my senses intact, dump every family 

photo album in the sea. Smiles aren’t so happy 

when sketched on the faces of the dead. They crumple 

in on themselves, float away. Slower than I’d have liked, 

in search of another home where they haven’t already been forgotten 

by one sworn never to forget

My brain is plastered with a perpetual pop-up – ‘You’RE RuNninG 

Out oF sToRAGE’ and stamped on my heart – ‘you’re running 

out of life’ – Tied to a pole, rope tight 

around my waist, running 

and running

Or perhaps I was meant to be here, 

rope frayed, pole forgotten, the edge, 

the place noise falls heavy and flat

Only one place to run when the earth runs out.

In the centre of black.

Rocked back and forth in their arms.

All my fussing swallowed in hush.

Soaking in their sobs,

They whose name I finally know.

Soaking amongst stars.

By Zarah Alam