
- I carry a taste within me
- that swims through mash potatoes,
- undoes what a granma does,
- rejects grammar.
- I carry a taste within me
- of generations-distant genocide,
- a rogue flight
- because you read the wrong book.
- there is unburden on my shoulders –
- my hands stay soft,
- and the hymen of hard work
- lies untouched.
but I cannot sit still.
- I run
- and run and run
- away from a self,
- away from an other,
- because I cannot let go of the fact
- that I am not one.
- when I look back
- into the steaming pot,
- the sweet smell of biryani
- pours desires.
- I am a warmed piece of ghee.
my recipe is untranslatable.
Categories: Poetry