Some (more spiritual) Mornings

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Words || Masumi Atul Parmar

The buzzing of my phone startles me.
With a glance towards my windows
and the absence of its warm glow,
I remember.

Pulling myself out of the small, warm haven I created
over the night
I move towards the shower.

I continue to dream as the warm water
pours over me-
The warm water touching me in places
I wish a pair of soft hands,
belonging to someone with
kind eyes would.

My eyes adjust to the white lights as I pull on
a comfortable kurta,
one I’ve worn so much
its been worn thin
to its threadbare skin.

With a breath I chant
slowly and rhythmically.
The mantra of Jupiter
leaves my lips and is
whispered to my walls.

I sigh at the end of it,
with it,
my hope for better health escapes.

The sapphire stone is shiny as I run it under the water in the sink.

“Lets hope the priest Papa went to in Mumbai is right-
That you will help me get better,
because you sure were expensive.”

My prayer lingers in the room long after I crawl back into bed,
the morning sun
bathing us
all.