over a year
of trying to make sense of a complex soul
through a two-dimensional hole:
a glass window,
five inches tall,
two inches wide,
a hundred miles away…
…i failed.
it didn’t make sense.
souls are not meant to be
explained in pixel-tense.
her soul was already a dandelion
of fist-shattered pieces of glass
held together
with the tender tether
of emotions she gathered
from her art, from her nature
and we tried to push this chaos
through the sieve of so many pixels-per-inch.
what got through was filtered complexity,
what remained were dead pixels,
pixels of missed understanding,
pixels of missed opportunity.
her soul is a church window:
patterned, intricate, sown with the threads of the rainbow.
like a church window
you had to be standing in front of her
to make sense of her.
i wasn’t standing in front of her.
i wish i was i wasn’t.
she was a hundred miles away
and i was alone with my phone,
trying to make sense of the light coming through the hole,
trying to make sense of the light coming through a distant church window.
*
Rohit Nalluri 
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