Kashti

By Seher Pokhariyal

I don’t know if I ever mentioned this to you,

but I have never fallen in love

till you that is–

the first I ever loved

fully, deeply, by choice

so struck-by my own desire

a flush of something new

an adoration

an acquiescence

a longing

tender and piquant

a quiet knock-knock-knocking-

on the oakwood of my heart

I told the moon all about you,

and you became life.

Every shared meal

a ritual, a congregation, my vestment

Every conversation

a pluck in the heart's orgel box

Every stolen glance

another wind in my paper boat sail

Every touch

like tucking a love note

in the ridges of

my goddesses' vanity—

audacious, delicious, hopeful

Sappho prophesied us—

And so for a moment,

the sun knew us,

and so did the stars

I once shaped you

and you me—

Languid days spent

in the aftersun

droswed nights

under Zardoz's milky way—

in flush, Dionysian ecstasy

to the winded tunes of the Muse’s Olympian lute,

our boat fresh off the shores of Eresos—

oars weathered by the history

of us, and those who these waters claimed—

our roots now tangling, choking, rotting

leaving ashy residue and seaweed

along the hallowed walls of shared lungs

Where do I end

and you

begin ?

(It's easier to tell now)

why does the space

between us

continue to

grow ?

Should it wait

with bated breath,

should it live

if no longer the child of

of a great, great love ?

Stranger,

I think you have a sweater that was once mine

I think I have a book that was once yours

I think we lost the language we once spoke together

I think we must now row our own boats

By Seher Pokhariyal