The cold air of the AC grazes my neck. Our lattes arrive. I glance at the frothy cream in my cup and look at my father, wondering if he misses the Irani restaurant that has been replaced by this café. He says he doesn’t. He tells me the Irani place shut shop years ago. He … Continue reading Displacement
We share bits of our infinities with each other holding on to as little as we must, as much as we can. Ensuring we remember crumpled fingertips and stories tucked in the middle of the night. I chuckle when you narrate the one about prying cops with fireflies skimming the body of the lake. I … Continue reading Short-lived infinities
A coming of age poem.
It’s been fifteen years, you tell me. You had just come back from college, and had to rush to the hospital. It was close to the end of the visiting hours. And then you saw your father, that independent man you had always known to be, You saw him leaning on your brother’s arm, struggling … Continue reading Picking up the pieces
I discovered electricity when I touched you. When the tingle in my skin echoed with the one in yours. When sparks flew off our tongues and created electric arcs. When the jigsaw of your back fit into my arms. I discovered electricity when our bodies fused into each other, and not a single ray of … Continue reading Electricity