The Darkening

- Parnisha Sarkar

We were growing up
in an old seaside town.
There was talk of war
and killing
but the sunsets
still rushed up narrow side streets
and we swum out to sudden islands
far off the shore
and, on green beaches,
skin touching sand,
dreamt of the sea.
At night,
the moon rose
smelling of salt
and the water twisted rocks
into strange human shapes
and everyone
dreamt a little
of the sea.
We were growing up
and on quiet afternoons,
slowly, lazily,
the glow spread
this way and that
like birdcall
and we secretly watched
the light move
on each other’s backs,
watched it smell like the sea,
the dark womb smell.
We were young
and it knived through
and there was talk of war
and a terrible
rushing sort of sadness everywhere.