Open Kinship

Pic from Pexels

The ocean is always open,

contrary to what drawstring thoughts

hiss in dark hours.

The foam, the froth, the freedom

move forth and back and forth and back,

to soak thoroughly feet,

even if they are clothed, closed,

in socks, crocs, or alligator hush puppies.

The waves hold up no ‘Closed’

signboard, like an unwise shop afterhours

peddling perishables.

Its watery gateways remain off-limits

to no convict, cripple or athlete.

Such is the vast kinship I feel,

for like the indiscriminate sea

Ils ne sont pas ferme

mon corps, mon coeur, mes pieds.

-Komal