Tell me, do you enjoy the scent
of vinegar & lemon, the rawness of newsprint
when I polish your surface clean?
You have about eight permanent scars on your body:
do they make you feel ugly?
Do you ever wonder if the stunned smoothness of a country lake
was a distant cousin?
Or the breakability of your bones, a genetic inheritance?
I’d like to know if you spend Sunday afternoons
reminiscing people that passed
Or speculating why it is you shine
only with what’s shone
Do you at all feel
my face plunging into your silver landscape?
Or the fact of its absence, when it moves away?
Can you sense joy
when a pair of lips blooms open at you, the ache
of a tear darting across your skin?
Do you ever wish for it to stop:
this perpetual drama—
this holding of things briefly
and then, letting go?
Vismai Rao’s poems appear or are forthcoming in the Indianapolis Review, RHINO, Salamander, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Parentheses Journal, Kissing Dynamite, & The Shore. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and the Orison Anthology. She lives in India. // @vismairao
Banner image by Olivia Cronk