Atop the crest of my right toe-the big one
There sat a tiny little bump, a blister
They call it.
The black velvet footwear, the culprit
Sat proudly upon my meager shoe collection,
Its small heel glistening in the florescent white lights of the balcony of my dorm room.
But that heel had much more good associated with it than bad;
The cobbling Mylapore lanes that we strolled through
With tiny painted houses and Ganeshas and little gates and bicycles;
The crisscrossing of my shoed feet
Upon campus stone floors and old sofas
Upon conversations that we fancied to be intellectual
Upon ideas and hopes and dreams and opposing music tastes;
The unsteady balancing of my knobbly, wobbling knees,
After spirited nights and too much laughter and too many tears;
The lush green of grassy midnight walks and the calm blue of daytime meanderings,
Of Wednesday nights;
The tripping and slipping of my clumsy self that relied upon these troublesome soles
Troubled souls, sometimes.
All for the price of a blister
Atop the crest of my right toe- the big one.
It was worth it.