Apomixis

By Atraiu Gupta

I

(and hereafter began—

the midsummer journey;

a dream of the three eggs,

or perhaps not...)

II

there lived once, a boy and a boy;

souls yet to entwine, but their eyes

bored down the whispering windows,

to get a glimpse— of the reason

that made their criminal hearts' beat.

(their longing faces stared crookedly at each other)

within floating castles of raindrops,

and gateways of scrutiny,

they lumbered down the path that,

emerged from twigs of insanity,

branching from one soul to another; recklessly—

the path, that dare not, should be named.

for it stands, against our principle of existence...

III

the boy and the boy, once in a grim winter,

when leaves of hope crackled of hope under footfalls,

of the people, with clouds for a face,

and shattered eggshells for a heart;

met under the dancing starlight; of their mothers’ graves.

all they wore, were golden chalices of suicidal attire.

as the horizon sparkled into wistful memories,

two silhouettes— sprawled under the

mosaicked waves of melancholy,

swiveled to the (heart)beats of death.

swaying with voices of truth,

their bones chinked against the bare skin,

as if, it’s the last twinkling of existence.

insomniac shadows meandered around,

to witness the crescendo of death’s gambit.

as an imperial affliction struck the feverish lips

of the boy and the boy.

their lungs, stapled together, breathless;

as one’s fingers traced the length of fire,

along the other’s split sternum.

in loops of pleasure, they submerged—

in a void of scarlet dusk, and olive wreaths

with opal eyes, staring wide deep into

the rags of existence; their existence.

IV

(the boy and the boy, stood

with conjoined lips, as into a new era, they ushered.

and from a boy, one turned into a man,

and another too, into a man;

but, will his clan, let him remain?)

V

lost themselves and their world

in this incomprehensible ardor,

the man and the man,

debauched the very strings of morality,

the man and the man, stood firm

with whispers of immortality,

and ravens on shoulders,

they stared over a sunless sea,

and a rogue skyline;

set sail, they did, to see the sights

of their (forbidden) love.

gasps, and moans, echoed over the empty horizons

as silence clambered the deck of wood,

passion arose in their carnal alchemy;

as one mouth, chewed another.

two bodies; one wish—

one, which neither of them can suffice.

VI (call it an urge, call it a wish,

the cause of their downfall, was this.) VII the man and the man, sailing over one another’s soul

in a dilemma, anchored they linger.

fireflies crawling on their ripped regalia,

as they pondered over the nights of saturnalia

drops of candle wax, fell from a man’s eyes

as the tragedy of having a child,

in front of them lies.

and in midst of the chaos of their thoughts, undefined— began the contorted visions of maligned

practices, in the other man’s mind.

the only path, that lay in front of them;

was one, that time coughed upon

and ashes of past lives, trembled

from the times of dawn.

for it needed, a lady of the clouds;

with skies for skin, and feelings in a shroud.

their love, it had to be sacrificed,

for a bond, that would hold their hands,

with fingers that crawled over their arms,

and honeysuckle laughs that shook their

eternal grief, out with their pouts.

VIII

a lady of the clouds, alas remained in their homeland

once princes, now the man and man return

as lovers inseparable, exiled from their own accord.

(little did they know, that word had spread out…)

blanketed greys obscured lances

and the nooses, that slithered along souls of dark;

waiting for the man, and the man

who crawled out of their beliefs,

to live a banished life of their own.

blinded, the man and the man go,

of the imminent danger,

up in their castle of youth—

down the stairs, racing with cloaks

and intertwined fingers, and reliving

the golden specks they felt, back when they were bairns.

IX

in darkened chaos, and pools of red,

frightened cicadas chirp out their fear.

and in fears of blurred lines of life and death,

fractured dreams— and a wish remain

dislodged between the fatal blows,

and an arrow to my hollowed heart

as my splintered tissues, fall off my cracked ribs.

(shallow breaths of one man,

lead the other man to the brink

of madness.)

crumbling bricks, shouts of swarms

dared, we once, did

to rise against the norms.

and the price, now we pay

in form of languid blows,

‘cause the things we did,

were the ones, they did forbid.

X bear, i could not, to see

the love of my life, falling from the sky

with trembling hands, i rubbed the blood

of his— over my face as his final memory.

a dark heart, rustled inside the sinews o’ mine

as my mouth, began enchantments,

from the other side; as the stars aligned—

the grains of my man, dissipated by

the droplets of dew on the clouds,

as along the scars of thy face, my ivy grows

twirling, converging, and diverging round your hair,

as thy bones, elongate into wistful fissures;

and into branches your neck erupted.

the body of yours long gone,

now remains a scion

of blackwood, holding the memories of us.

a rekindled flame, you remain, whilst i long

for the touch of hand, as you grazed your lips

down my eyes, and kissed my neck.

the soothing words, echoes of your mouth,

haunt my ears, and scream in my brain—

as a day molds into another, i fall prey

to grief and the betrayal of our land.

in this bubbling madness o’ mine,

i finally find, the fair lady divine;

and with my pleas and the tale of our decline

and a little bit of magic and madness,

i, go with her, to your shrine.

our wish we complete, as tears cover my body,

i write this to you, my man, as the last of our words—

and with you, now shall i conjoin.

XI

(the children of the man and the man,

in existence, they come, as eggs of sorcery.

the wish, as it seems, thus remains fulfilled,

but is it really so?)

XII

rest the three eggs do,

over a blanket, tattered with bullet holes,

and in a nest, of stapled branches, with shrieks

of sober love, raining over them.

and just when the frugal winds

lead the eggs to the tree of their fathers,

as the branches embraced their children for the first time,

the lady of the clouds, wrenches her children

away from the battered branches of the tree.

By Atraiu Gupta