If I could have any color I found to rouge my cheekbones with, I’d streak the peachy rose of Calcutta’s twilight smog across my apples, In place of the exhaust and dust catching to the salty dewborne of an India afternoon sun.The clouds tinted here at sundownare more than a fat little cherub-pink;they glow with… Continue reading On smog
Tag: nostalgia
On migration
There is something to be said for the initial impressions on the young: Maybe I am stuck in this mindset because of when I met you,when I knew you,when I loved and had you.My bones were still soft, allowing perfect harmony in the tug of you and the give, the bend of me.It is an… Continue reading On migration
Garbanzo Bae 