Rochelle Dsilva

Rochelle Dsilva is a page/performance poet who writes about her travels, cultural influences and personal experiences. She’s been performing since 2011 and runs a monthly open mic in Bombay called ‘Words Tell Stories’. She also started the first slam in the city called ‘Mumbai Poetry Slam’. Rochelle has been published in numerous anthologies and has performed on various stages across Australia, Malaysia, Nepal and India. She has a love affair with trees and hopes to live in a tree-house someday. She is more poet than human and has perfect bottle-opening hands. Catch her at a poetry gig before she disappears into the mountains.

 

Salt

You would think

that it is the

cold and calculated

that would hurt me

And since you are

neither cold

nor calculated

There is no probable cause

But it is the callous

the casual

the doing without realising

the not even wondering

The wounds you cause

simply by omission

build fences

around my psyche

I sit on the floor

observing each trigger

Running my tongue over it

like revisiting a phantom tooth

Each loss creating tidal waves

that thrash about my insides

I spill rivers

and still feel like I’m drowning

I have been losing so much water

since we met

But you are not affected by the tides

not subject to the whims

of some natural satellite

You are salt

Overpowering when concentrated

dissipating on contact with water

Together we are either too salty

or not wet enough

So I sit, diluted to the point

of not tasting anything

too aware that it is impolite to say

‘could I have more please’

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