i hide my thumb
in the hollow of my throat
and feel the gentle throbbing.
my heart is big enough to
hold a city, douse a fire.
life seems stranger these days,
entirely misunderstood, so wonderfully
incomprehensible. i do not ache to know
now, i do not weep water or dreams.
i blossom
gently
and forgive the world, get mad
at the things i must get mad about,
and smile all the way from ear to ear,
from dilli to the sea, just for the feat
of surviving these long and absurd days,
this lifetime, a carnival, a madhouse, fragile.
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