Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Lights

lights for a woman and the seashore. Collect seashells and recite the text while washing them in the ocean.

I place you in the foam
to breathe

and rattle as the sea-
shells do;

I’ll ask that you wrest
your teeth

from mine—

against my palette, thick,
and flush,

each day I sing to your
hollow

and wait for blush of your
echo

again—

your arching neck left beached
and bled,

bleached shells turn ash, and on
wind blow—

I only ask that you
say no.

← Divya M. Persaud