Poetry: Arambol by Apala Bhattacharya

Apala is a regular contributor in our Facebook group, OWS Word Mafia. She shared this poem there, and I knew it needed a wider audience. Enjoy!

reading-tall-talesApala Bhattacharya is a copywriter, cat lover, and period-drama aficionado.

When she’s not writing for brands, she writes for herself. Some of it even gets published.
She talks to herself at https://mellowmarauder.wordpress.com/

You can talk to her at apalab@gmail.com

 

Arambol

I left my soul
in Arambol.
In that photo you took
of a photographer
taking a photograph
of the sea.

our-write-sideAt that store where I wore
a dress too short
for my thighs too fat
and didn’t care.

I left my soul
in Arambol.
With Marie the dog who,
wet from the rain,
curled up in my chair,
and I let her stay.

With the tree that we
stole coconuts from
and drank the water
like savages.
I left my soul
in Arambol.
At the spot where
I thought:
This cliff is so high.
If I jumped off
I’d fly.

In Room 203
where I breathed easily
and the world was just
the sea and me.

I’m going back
to Arambol.
I’ll draw in the sand
with my feet
and with my hand
and walk into the water
deep.

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Stephanie Ayers

Stephanie Ayers is a full-time world-building ninja, seven-time published author, and graphic designer enjoying the country life in central Virginia, while crafting her own story and resisting growing up at all costs. She mothers her children, loves her husband, attends church, and avoids all things zombies.
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