Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
The anatomy of
my decisions
is clean, poised.
I know
its delicate
skeleton edge
to edge,
my love.
You are: my love.
As definite
as teeth.
Here or
not quite, it
doesn’t matter
what we call
this. You are
the choice
I make without
choosing.
But what
does this clarity
lend itself to?
I think of you
sprawled in my
small half-room
last summer,
& the summer before,
your form
impermeable.
I am glad to live
elsewhere now,
the halls undarked
by you.
That is perhaps
what brought me here,
or drove me away,
or however you want
to put it.
I imagine
you’d say something
strange, absurd, words
unique to you with
which you’d settle in-
to permanence again.
I imagine your
shapes & sorrows
often, defining mine,
giving them reason,
a stone to
knife myself against,
but I’m tired
after all
of having to be
cruel just to ease
you off
the surface.
This is my wall,
my house, my body,
emptied, taken away
from you. Pink &
tender. Glistening,
gentle. You should know
I made this
happen.
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