I shall spur like the black ring
clawing at my bones towards
the band; so quick, so quick.
I am aware once more of a
new desire; something rising
beneath like the flavor of
tobacco, flinging itself against
the fire, till it arches my back,
falling all over like golden-flakes.
A patina of crepe-corsage on your
chequered shirt—a wreath of pulp.
How else would you or I know
we are living—if not by killing?
June Nandy's recent works have appeared in Qarrtsiluni, Aphelion Webzine, Hudson View, Up The Staircase Quarterly, and elsewhere. She has an award winning poem in the open poetry contest, 2009 with Prakriti Foundation, Chennai. Her novel, 'Ideospheres of Pain' has been released recently in India which advocates for an ideology-free world. Her poetry and other details can be accessed at: Through My Striped Shirt.