By LINDA ASHOK
While you play with your tresses,
and suckle your diamond with trust,
while you play with the bubbles
in your lime-soda with that straw,
there’s something you are trying
to place and I am missing it.
While you tow my stilettos with yours,
fleece the tissue and craft roses that you
shove in my cleavage, while you order
our favorite fish and chips and tease
me by your sudden claim of my last bite,
there’s something you are trying
to place and I am missing it.
While you ask me if my mother still longs
for my dad after 30 years of their separation,
if my child would be okay with two mothers
or if you be the softer one or I when the moon
has left the streets and birds have gone
back to their prayers, there are many
clues you have placed, and you know it all.
Linda Ashok, author of whorelight, was the 2017 Charles Wallace India Trust Fellow in Creative Writing (Poetry) at the University of Chichester, UK. Her poems and reviews have appeared or are forthcoming in several publications, including The Common, Crab Orchard Review, the Big Bridge Anthology of Contemporary Indian Poetry, Mascara Literary Review, The Rumpus, and others. Ashok is the founder/president of RædLeaf Foundation for Poetry & Allied Arts and sponsors the annual RL Poetry Award (since 2013). More at lindaashok.com.
