Written by: Jeena Chacko

The remnants of my breakfast 
resemble the remnants of 
my nocturnal glowing chimera. 
The yellow streaks left 
by the bulls eye (sunny-side up)
were like the broken moonbeams 
that spilled through my trembling fingers
over my face, forcing me to confront 
my insomnia, my nightmares.
I wake up and stare at the moon.
Corpulent and cavernous,
a trap door in that aerial abyss
with its pale yellow that sucks out 
colours from every object it touches
with the steady consistency of 
a recurring hallucination. 
Mesmerizing, maddening
Sole witness to my 
dreary ramblings.

         -  Jeena Mary Chacko (May 29, 2011)