Because I am a Heart Bender


And then I seek for my face.
An eel, also lost its way when finding where the water narrows,
coils my body as if to suffocate me
or  make love to me
or  transmit its power to me.
The electrocution: I fear you
when you want to see all the elements of my heart.

Those nocturnal silverfish still alive  - intractable.
They avoid your traps,
shoot in time back and forth when you come.
But then
reveries are mistaken for unborn dandelions.
Your weeder  is sharp – my wounds are young.

There’s a difference between my heart and a wasteland:
A cemetery is a place for anything to grow
or regrow.
So then I mask.
You debunk only some of my layers.
I am  boundlessly heavy.
Come here, measure my heart:
The perimeter. The area . The density.
I fear that the immensities faze you
or your fist becoming a bludgeon.

But then
you wash me, sterilize me,  refine me.
Deep in my body, your shine is embedded
as an immaculate glory
or  impeccable blackest black.
I do not know
which one.


Subhadra Jayasundara



Journalists for Democracy in Sri Lanka

  • JDS is the Sri Lankan partner organization of international media rights group, Reporters Without Borders (RSF). The launching of this website was made possible by the EU’s European Instrument for Democracy and Human Rights (EIDHR), of which Reporters Without Borders is a beneficiary.