If I could.

if i could.

rip up shadows
of poles and plains
to turn them into trees
chisel every leaf
and bare veins bleeding into the rain

if i could
crease out a lake
I would,
drown the ripples
and watch a monologue
between the moon and a paper boat

but all I can afford
is to watch
the silent games
an empty room and the shadows play

but if i could
just mute the rain,
I could watch
the land shiver
in their silent intimacy.

-Shruti swamy