To drop anchor
Life, a khatamkari, delicate pieces in eternal patterns sealed under solid varnish
Fragments of fleeting memories, captured in an overexposed negative,
letters on histories broken by time, yet strong enough to pull the weight of the future
Leaving the comfort of childhood starry nights on roof tops
for the patient lace-work of endless pine forests under the brightest summer nights,
Token of it all, pages indifferent to the journeys you have made,
a European passport,
effortlessly taking you to places you will never call home
On unknown paths, yet never lost,
No longer growing roots but learning to drop anchor
