baby blue bangles

- a poem where there are no baby blue bangles

cream pink walls heavy with the sun splayed on them,
floors laden with sweat, laden with dust,
and i try to catch a few seconds beneath a fan,
legs rising and falling in restless memory of tomorrow, 
so close, so far, still here.
change can be dealt with in momentum,
a momentum you plan,
(which hardly happens).
my lilac skin lays itself open on my bed, 
inching closer to the sun sleeping in baby blue,
baby blue dipping a toe in turquoise. 
my forehead yawns in straight lines, 
sweet silence silent, much like when i am with you,
when i was with you,
when i will be with you. 
ah the privilege of letting sunday kiss my body clean,
and i remember you slightly squeezing my shoulder,
yellow of the city lights between us and i find myself rubbing my cheek on your chest. 
one hand remains on my heart, the other on my body,
and the simplest way to seal your faith is through truth,
a sky split into colors tumbling on the postcard, 
as i lick the envelope to shut it clean.
there are bangles chiming in the distance,
my trembling hands apply kajal in my eyes.
doing everything, absolutely everything in your wait,
for i want to remain beautiful in your eyes,
beautiful and yours,
just like you are for me.
the days don’t do justice to how much i want you,
i think i have fallen in love with you. 

-Sakhi Singh