Quickly now
yet so slowly 
A lump of seasons 
detonates in my mouth
A wire explodes, I have felt it clenching for a while now 
( Slippery anchors )
The globular seams of gums
where blood runs
through streaming lanes
Meandering under thick shades 
along filthy belts of flesh

This year's sun is a soft one
One that will bury and dispense 
Submerge like red gooey pickles 
on my callused thighs and fabric hands

But I wear a smile
A torn smile, anesthetic breaths in urban skies
My bodies lie
Plenty and cold
My bodies lie
Devoid and wrapped
wrapped in the slime of echoes
My bodies lie
( Swamps and moisture, castles and forts )

But I look above
without a blink
Airplanes in my eye
I look above
My jaws falling
Organs garnered to make a pulmonary wreath
I look above
My chin plucked by a thousand little hands
I look above
Trying to practice the new human
The one with special abilities 
The one who can see 
and unsee
I am practicing the new human
The one who can see 
and unsee

#aleppo
Image and words © Aakriti Kuntal
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4 thoughts on “A Bowl of Red

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