I killed a spider by mistake. A weightless thing dropped onto the page I was writing. My palm moved without thought and pressed it. Three legs detached. One clung to the crease of my hand, delicate as thread, stubborn as grief. The two writhed across the paper, as if still tethered by pain. Its body twitched, fragmented, unwilling to surrender. I froze, caught between disbelief and regret, watching those frail limbs tremble. The body near my words pulsed faintly, as if refusing death. Absence tricks the mind into feeling what is gone. Perhaps, in that unfinished moment, it felt whole.
Sunayna Pal's poetry graces the pages of numerous international journals, anthologies, museums, poetry festivals, textbooks, and libraries, resonating with readers worldwide. Visit Sunaynapal.com for more.