to shruti krishnan, on her twenty-first birthday
you rest easy
in hidden corners
of obscure library shelves,
your footprints
play with the dust -
disrupting and adorning,
all at once.
you rest easier
in reflections of your
many, many selves,
quiet passion, fierce silences,
bubbling pages in your diary
bursting at the seams,
half-smiled silliness,
half-charmed eyes.
you rest easy
in stony silences -
silences made of
silver filigree thoughts and
bright colourful conversations.
you rest easiest
in shared sparks of comfort -
dancing in and out of both our fingers -
pale yellow sunshine in yours,
and dark blue moonbeams in mine.
you rest easiest
in staccato laughs
and handwritten notes,
for your voice is clearest
when it becomes
the voice in my head.