al-Asrar
Parked in the middle of my street, anchored
by your citadel, distant, bathed in light,
we removed our sallowed skins unhampered
and kissed with breath inflected by finite
touches and teases and remnants of gin,
of rizlas gracing the edge of a tongue,
of hairs dusting pathways from ear to chin.
I’d have offered you myself to be wrung
out and consumed - devoured even - ‘til
I remembered the calm of me, herself,
a curious constant renewed of will,
un-haloed but hallowed, crowned without wealth.
And so, as two forms, distinct, we parted,
a more intricate weave than when we started.
Published in Propel Magazine, Issue 3, January 2023.
Reflections on Pepper Water
I learned to split myself in two, in eight,
well before I spelt plaits between your hairs.
I formed my lips around her pot, her plate,
and poached my roots in bleach among the pears.
I knew to shell myself as cardamom,
simmered my skin of burnt milk in saucepans,
sweetened words grain by grain with cinnamon,
sieved myself tender and refused your hands.
A little older, I sought my fingers,
like a lady steeped in stewed bhindi swims,
sueyed under dumplings (yes, she still lingers)
left in a pool of dye, I hid my limbs.
And a little older still I grow limes…
they’ve buds between countries, shoots between thighs.
Published in t'ART magazine, Issue No. 4, September 2022.
