Dolphins

Sometimes I will meet myself in an unlikely spot to tie the loose ends of fugitive life. Run, run I used to tell my blisters, you are caught in a bushfire. I will say, take hold of the moon and start wiping the stains. The antelopes, the trees, the rocks will keep your footmarks alive. What a crazy idea, I will think to pretend to be happy. Gods are sleeping, vault is broken and priest has become a thief. A jab in my back, I am bleeding. Why not a meaningless word, a painless wound would play like dolphins in my tranquil sea? SATISH VERMA