Migs Bravo Dutt


I undressed in a corner of the room
A drab marionette without its master
She told me to climb up and lie face down
On a tall bed that she’d just straightened

Soothing chants and melodies filled the air
Mingling with the scent of eucalyptus
A few drops of oil fell on my skin
Warm hands soon patted and covered my back

I breathed into the hole of the table
The only galaxy that mattered now
She kneaded life into my shoulders and nape
The hole wasn’t an abyss but a well

I closed my eyes and I imagined her
Pulling a thread away from my spine
And the last of disappointments faded
With the vapor from the oil diffuser

I could now stretch my fingers and joints
My restored limbs could soon carry my weight
It takes a certain kind of touch to heal
The weakened body and the weary soul

I was one in a line of tired bodies
That offices had worn but couldn’t mend
After one hour I knew I was repaired
Her long day though had barely started

duttMigs Bravo Dutt is a writer and researcher who has published work in several countries, regions, and cultures. She is the author of the contemporary novel, The Rosales House, from Penguin Random House SEA and has published several essays, including one in the Washington Post. She has contributed poetry and short fiction to anthologies and journals in Asia, Europe and the USA. Migs has co-edited Get Lucky: An Anthology of Philippine and Singapore Writings.

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