"This mango. It’s tastes decent. But it does not explode with flavor. It’s juices do not run over my chin and fingers. I miss you."
This year, Eid isn’t authentic. For me. There is a turbulence worming its way as I soundlessly prepare for it while it rains. Somehow Gaza on my mind. Somehow tension. Putting it aside, I’ve got my clothes from Gujarat. This is what I’ve been planning to wear. I love the colour combination of the shawl and the work done in the neck area. I’m reminded of Sabayasachi, a little. I’ve got my polka dotted abayah and unmatching shawl, bohemian earrings to go with. I’ll be doing my henna in a bit, got my rose-water ready. Lastly, there is something brownish on a bowl isn’t there? It is called ‘Wattalapam’ which is a Sri Lankan Moorish sickly sweet dessert made with eggs, jaggery [palm sugar], coconut, and aromatic spices. Cashew and plums used for garnishing. It tastes delicious when eaten lukewarm but I like it eaten after refrigerated. Anyhow here’s Eid Mubarak wishes for everyone celebrating it. We will welcome it tomorrow. Stay blessed.
The difference between being loved and being fucked is I can’t remember how the first feels. I have a body like an open door. I have a body like an open hand. It is too easy to hold me.
Find me a boy with a heart more hopeful than spun sugar on a hot day, I will teach…
"And so castles made of sand, melt into the sea eventually."
if you open your ribs, i will return to my home,
finding the notches shivering with longing,
emerald hues kissing my dripping eyelashes.
if you open your sternum, i will shudder into
submission. parasites clinging, my bruises wanting
if you open your arms, i will dance to you,
catching my breath, sweat like war paint on my brow,
my bones are rattling, waiting to quiver with
- acrylic, stencil, ink tense, modeling paste, stamp
I wonder how many people in this city
live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when i look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in every window
looking back at me
and when I turn away
I wonder how many go back to their desks
and write this down.
In the stillness, you reach out
and find me and pull me down
like a sheet on a hot night.