h_ngw_m_n Poem by Sridala Swami

h_ngw_m_n



with lines from Paul Celan

expecting to fail? grant us a grave in the air!
over a whirling fan
throw the remaining yards of silk scrape your strings darker!
stand on the stool
put it around her neck we drink it at midday!
did she knot her wedding sari
still drawing its circle in the air: black milk of daybreak
afterwards, only one question

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