The Torment of Life by Sathya Wistara

The torment of life

is memory: the longevity

and loss

Tides, coming

and going, unchained;

somehow, You make them stay

like a broodmare

nuzzles the hand

that whips her bare

My fingers fail me

I cannot confine

an ocean to a pond

they escape:

little dreams, glistening

undecipherable streams

aimless in the wind

I follow the sun

to an empty shore

---

“I sometimes imagine myself reading my poems before a raised platform upon which stand my favourite dead authors. Sometimes they approve of my poems. At others, they either laugh or frown. I vaguely remember Nakahara Chūya leaving the room right after I finished reading this one.”

Sathya Wistara (she/her) wants to graduate with a bachelor’s degree in science by the end of 2022. They may be found standing precariously close to the edge of an Indonesian railway platform or @unhoIydaughter on Twitter.