Darling, do you see me?

A bumblebee, sleeping inside your moth mouth,
your voice, a sewing machine between these chopped breaths, 
my arms roping in your saliva, a hint of your agony
hitting mine

I say come on in, come on in like this feverish air,
this air outside of faces, outside of all light, 
Come in and meet me like the seamless fondness 
that you are, twirling bare around my naked bones, feet tingling above feet

I hear you, your Magnolia voice, around palm trees here,
in their thirsty arms and windy eye sockets, almonds tearing seeds,
walnuts with memories, 
excessively moist in all their contorted intensity,
skinned and threading, my stomach like a sweet dish of paper cuts, 
blood clinging to blood, loss stirring loss

I say come on in, wearing your white t-shirt, hanging lose, ghost like 
on your moon skin, on your burgundy biceps, 
like dead light beneath your scraped face
come on in, bring your fingertips to my existence, the chapped sienna
threading your right eye, like a ring misplaced, come,
without a word, without a question, with only your fingers naked and made,
collectibles of all the shells you stole from the river banks
in my name, 
come with them or come without them, come anyway

Image and poem © Aakriti Kuntal

16 thoughts on “Departure

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