By: Garima Sharma

A lonely woman
takes lovers,
no dreams,
children,
shoe bites,
men and brothels of feet.
coins,
zari, and the young boy
outside the hamaam.

Freedom was never for the darling slave,
whose wrists are bound by spit,
and human hair.
Each pore filled with sad lakes.
Benign kicks in the mouth given gently,
and a glad poison softly,
inhaled with milk,
at night.

the woman in the mirror
with no name
once asked me what is flesh

I had no answers.
Only
an easy disquiet
possibly blind