Maps guide us

A silhouette of solitude–
a bunch of leaves that spike and poke,
like stationary spindles on a needle.
Black and white.
Wound taut, peaking,
against the backdrop of a bluish greyish white sky.

Swallowing like a slow ageing fish,
soothing their skins in the golden hue.
Black and white.
The roofs slant and the gates creek.
Terracotta crumbles and iron bends.
Black and white, and red and black,
against the backdrop of a bluish greyish white sky.

I trace the shades and outline the silhouette
to create a map.
I mark spots and tiny stars.
I inscribe arcs and draw bubbles.
I poke a tiny crumb of a hole.
I run my fingers along the rough recycled paper.
Along the impressions of pencil marks and compass pits.
Black and white.

A tear in the middle.
I draw the gossamer tape over it, to make it whole.
To fix the hole and stitch the tear.
I struggle.
Four pieces pulled across different directions.
A unique sheet of artwork.
Black and white.
Northwest and Southeast.
Southwest. Northeast.
A divided map filled with hopes of a united land,
against the backdrop of a bluish greyish white sky.

India, 2020

Photo by Kalea Jerielle on Unsplash