Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
it is inevitable to come upon you with a raw tomato —
held light in your long fingers, its bright skin peeling off
from where your teeth have set into its wet insides,
and its small green seeds run in pale streaks
of juice that dampen the sideridge of your hand,
sometimes slipping down the wrist, sticky after —
this orange-pink fruit pretty in your palm,
skinless and fresh, reminiscent of the hours you
spent at home with your parents, helping —
ten years old and toothless maybe, or older and sharper,
following your mother with a clean spoon, or cutting into onions
as your father worked the mutton, waiting for
that stray tomato, ripe & red, picked off
a chopping board or surprise-found in the fridge,
or in pieces, handed to you by loving hand —
and in this kitchen,
you stand shy-smiling by the sink, no longer toothless,
and you hand me a piece, as if to say, please remember —
as if to say, you too are part of this story.
← Urooj