“I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.”
~ Anaïs Nin
No more walls, she says.
No more coats. I’ll have none of that.
None of your hands
shadow-boxing a hermit crab.
No more repetitive shapes
or sharks to
set things right
ocean after ocean after ocean
I’ll speak of things, of names
too difficult to decipher.
And yes, no more changing into a flower,
a sea anemone, a jellyfish.
I’ll remember that all animals
are predatory
at the bottom of the sea.
And then I’ll speak of
hurricanes, mirrors,
and odd-numbered
fantasies
of a brokenness you call
inadequate,
paltry, blonde.
You will not be able to see me change.
You will not see me drifting into the sea.
There will be nothing aquatic
about this shipwreck. You will not know
the colour blue.
When I put stones in my pocket
You’ll still be looking at a mermaid
and saying,
Look, how close
she is to the ship.
~ Jennifer Robertson
Jennifer Robertson is a poet and critic living in Bombay. Her book reviews and essays have appeared in Scroll, American Book Review and the Telegraph. She co-curates the ‘Literary Encounters’ session for The PEN-All India Centre. Her first poetry manuscript was chosen for the Editor’s choice award by The (Great) Indian Poetry Collective and will be published in July 2016.