Rorschach Returns to Me - Kushal Poddar
and I try to let the Rorschach test reveal a happy memory.
Some days are pins. Most are hay.
At this moment I know if I stare at anything long enough it will sing- a black canary whose owner takes Prozac with timely Ecstacies, and my eyes water recalling a tune my mother smothered my sleep in- oh yeah!
“A butterfly” I tell the doctor. The next inkblot is a rope hardened with fats from someone dead’s lifetime. (C) Kushal Poddar 2019