khuli hui patli pateeaN
fisalti hain neechay meri baahoN se,
mere areolar ki kulchan jo nipples ne
safed charmeuse ki khaali gubund main
dabbatay huay banaaee thee,
us ko main dekhti hoon.
main dhabbay pe
apna angootha ragaDti hoon.
koi daag nahin paDta - magar
mera paDa dogana nishan nahin mit-taa.
din k waqt tum ek kaala kamra ho
mera print bananey main lagi rehti ho.
raat ko mera badan kala kar deta hai tumain
un drawers ko bhi jahan tum rakhi jaati ho.
- -
CHELSEA WAGENAAR:
Brassiere
Unclasped; thin straps slipping
down my arms, I notice
the areolar bruise
my nipples have pressed
inside the empty cupola
of pale charmeuse.
I rub a thumb over the smudge.
But no smear—I'm duplicated,
indelible.By day
you are a darkroom
developing the print
of me.By night, my body
darkens even the drawers
that keep you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem