To All the Men Who Were Willing Servitors of My Heart

By Ramsha Naushad

Thank you

for stopping by,

for resting your gaze upon me

like the sun leans into the leaf,

just long enough

to awaken something green.

Thank you

for your warmth,

for your daggers too,

for what you buried quietly in my soil.

I watered it with tears,

watched silence ferment

into something soft.

Now

a sapling grows

from the ache you left behind.

Not spite, not stone

but tenderness unfurling.

I see you now

with your wives,

with your children,

your laughter echoing across other kitchens.

I see you now

loving.

And I do not flinch.

There is no theft in love.

What lives in me

is not rage anymore,

but the fire you lit

melting the walls of a house

I thought was mine.

Now I lie down

on my own earth

This is all I have in my heart:

Blessing.

Soft light.

The echo of you

held only in peace

By Ramsha Naushad