Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
It’s four years on but the old-time arguments
still open, close, hang in front of windows.
Shadows in the kitchen don’t agree on a single
source of light, but then neither did we.
How I wish I could divide our lives, as tidy
as an orange. O we were once a song, and that song
was a wound and that wound is still singing.
How I wish your words were not my thermostat.
How I wish they were turpentine, bandages,
anything that clots, blots, slows a life right down.