Poem | Karuna Chandrashekar


Photograph : Tilak


summer is here / heat has returned to lance / the sky /
in tandem / i decorate my skin with anger / my tongue grows quiet / with many
names /

serving as knives / my own kill list / this mouth, turns cremation site / where
unsaid things / have slow, small deaths / where / memory is a speaking pile of ash /

teach me voice / how to fill the half empty / contents of its glass / slide across
the table / in quick surrender / in the sadness of summer / teach it to leave rings on
wood / around the moon / around the pale knuckle of a finger

teach me / how to hurricane my hunger / to know its wind / but to stay still/
within its eye

teach me how to see / how to dismantle the telescope of desire / pointing toward
the horizon / waiting / for ships sailing / at half mast, / for the prayer in each
arrival / of sea breeze

teach me how to commit / this most vital act / of insurrection / to live with despair/
to not end, each heat-heavy night / closing / fingers around /  flames /  to not
leave this body / a mute witness / to its own wane

against all that I have learned / teach me the hope / of a star disturbed night/
teach me how to collect each collapse/ teach me how to wait / with grace / for
better days

i have so much to learn


No comments:

Post a Comment