This poem is shortlisted for BN Poetry Award.


the fangs of the night lust after my bones
yeti reach out for that innocence
in the corridor of childhood

i have been staring as my stars burn
into ashes that rain on my black hair
but it is sand that my hair hungers for

i want to sit at the storyteller’s feet
and ride on the back of the cunning tortoise

i thirst for the milk of the morning
and to make my daily bread from mother’s breasts

to be a man is to drown in the sea of your inner tears
i don’t want to be a man again
let me be that child whose cheeks glisten with tears
take me back to the beginning of breath…

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