“disaster”: a poem by Chinmayi Balusu

her name was disaster.

an eternal disaster that no one knew what to do about.

and when she started

spelling out her name

they knew everyone was done for.

i couldn’t understand how she could do it--

so gracefully--

her talent too hard to master,

too hard to be so easy,

too hard to perceive,

too hard to forget.

she wore a mask of deceit every day

never hesitant

to be just as cold as her freezing palms in the incessant winter.

never did she ask

for permission to know she was always right.

she wore a mask of success even though

i knew that there was sacrifice

hiding in her maliciousness.

but her unattainable invitation of knowledge

turned my cowardice into audacity instantly.

shock written clearly on her face when

i realized that all thousand

of her wishes

had become mine as well.

faster and faster i collapsed into her aromatic being

she never gave me a promise of even a handful

yet my fragile

azure self

tumbled headlong.

her eyes a ripple in the still lake

her skin a part of the darkened pavement

her words a distant light flickering bright burgundy

her smile a beam of moonlight on a crisp, warm winter night

her touch a delicate caress of a pebble worn down to utter perfection

her stride a swift breeze quietly embracing the leaves of the great redwoods

her voice an orchestral performance with crickets who have yet to find a new song

her presence a dance of raindrops on my cracked window when i can’t even sleep at 2:56 am

her name was disaster

but she was a blessing to my heart.