A prayer for peace
A semolina eye, held proudWithin its puffed-up pouchA bold and ripening thing, viscousWeeping in the day’s light
A topographerUnderstands the delicacyOf tenderly unfoldingCorners of parchment,Admiring the contoursOf the landscape…
I have a long red sari* for bloodIt flows finer than fluidIt has carved furrows of…