[Issue 2024.69]

‘Manipulating the Light’, Mahaila Smith

Art © 2024 Fluffgar

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The open skylights lance
drops of sunlight that slip
through prisms and bounce
off mirrors, leaving a spill
of colour and light
at the altar of the temple.
She thought of her silver lahenga
covered in multifaceted mirrors
designed to pick up the light
and dazzle her wife.

The skirt was soft
and made of bamboo silk,
It had been passed down
to her from her mother.

The temple was cool, the roof was covered
by tall, networking banyan trees.
She took off her sandals.
The stone floor was cold under her feet.
Chairs were arranged in a ring
around the altar.
Flowers dangled from the ceiling,
perfuming the space with frangipani.

Her hands and feet were covered
in red images of the cosmos,
symbols of protection,
strength and change,
pictures of her home,
the crystalline dome
that protected her community
from all pervasive heat.

She put her sandals on and walked home
on the pebble covered paths,
under thick tree cover.
She arrived at the spiralling,
vine-covered apartment building
where she lived with her family.

She took the glass elevator
up to the roof balcony to join the party
of cousins, siblings, friends and her fiancée.
They drank beer and shared kisses
and Prita felt giddy and knew
she would not be able to sleep
thinking about tomorrow
and all the people she loved
and all the plans she wanted
to make for their future.

© 2024 Mahaila Smith

[Issue 2024.69]

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