Incandescence

The layered sky is painted in
washed out tones of a fading day.
I hold the beautiful scene in the frame of my gaze
until night diffuses ink into the vaulted heavens.
Sails of white spectres float against
a dwindling cold crescent,
sulking in a pool of muted light.
Only the last constellation of fireflies
shatter the seamless ocean of shadows,
as they blink fiery trysts in the bleak yonder.
On the outside, I am at peace with
the stillness of solitude.
Within, a different kind
of incandescence is seething
Shattering the quietude in my ribcage
Bolts of fire violently bombard walls
of my glass heart
A thunderous pounding
that implores your closeness.

-Khushi Kaul