After the rapture

This is a surreal image of a person wearing a gas mask in an unreal setting. My post is about a lover coping with the disappearance of his loved one after the rapture and hence the image to complement it.

I

After the rapture, the gravity that anchored
us, split into two, and that beginning was
new and paralleled my
tobacco hazed setting, the smoke curling
and curling upwards, towards you,
the love of my life,
set in an impeding dystopia,
the aporias of what is
and what’s to come instilling fear into the
hearts of people, fundamentalists
preaching about raging seas, shrieking
and howling like the son of perdition
coming, the increased cosmic activity,
the Babylon of filth, only seemingly rich,
but those men preached with rage, unsettled,
uncertain, hating being left behind,
but most of me lost itself in all of you
who disappeared.

II

I watched Persona by Ingmar Bergman,
your favorite movie before your conversion,
trying to decipher it like you did in that
simple yet complicated way, Alma and Elizabeth,
the same person, the title giving it away,
I listened to Tomkins Square Park by Mumford
And Sons, and understood it better than
I ever did, I read Portrait of a Lady by T.S. Eliot
and changed the semantic, making it not one about
angst, guilt, and the fear of being unloved, left, but
you twisting a lilac in your hands, just for
a naïve thrill, and me smiling, accepting,
loving and knowing you, but still feeling
the arrow in my Achilles’ Heel, piercing,
making me shriek and scream, I watched
both John Williams and Ana Vidovic play
Asturias by Isaac Albéniz, you preferring
the former technical master and me, the latter
more emotional, graceful, elegant lover.

III

I walked, looking for you, hoping there was
a door to an alternate universe, a parallel
reality into which your soul migrated like
a plane in the sky, but couldn’t find anything
but brick, stone, war, chaos and blood,
a funnel of madness, through which everything
that was, slowly passed

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2019)

5 responses

  1. Powerful piece. Love the end:
    “…your soul migrated like
    a plane in the sky, but couldn’t find anything
    but brick, stone, war, chaos and blood,
    a funnel of madness, through which everything
    that was, slowly passed”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: