Woman
I have an appetite for the hungry
Wonder swimming in your black irises,
For the certitude fast fermenting in your Winery.
The grapes are aged and ripe –fiery fervor rolls off your
Fierce tongue.
Bend your knees, meet the ground
And sink your fingers into the dark soil.
Sputtering red embers beckon;
Draw in a deep breath and
Empty your lungs.
Ossify,
Ossify,
Ossify.
Sari
I pray you adopt the most
Sincere tone of delicacy when making
Reference to my name:
Coax it with honour, with the air of
Appreciation.
I wear my name the way an Indian
Woman wears her sari, draped
Across her frame, a symbol of
Her jeweled spirit, a testimony
Of the beauty in her identity, and
The one thing thrust upon
Her that she loves.
To Those Who Storms Are Fond Of
Restless storms take you in
Generous mouthfuls and lock
Your body between their teeth.
The ocean’s vessel churns and you
Churn with it, gulp with it, stir in it.
Close your legs and be swallowed
Whole. Grip onto the walls of its
Stomach and make peace.You are nutrient to this water.
Surrender and be digested.
Breathe and be cleansed.
Sit up and emulsify.
Refuse toBe abortedAt sea.
