by Maya Chhabra
I walked through fire for you Unburned, while each precise step Recalled the year's captivity: close about me The fatal rush of heat, the violent wind And I a small frightened void who must Not scurry through with stolen speed But seem as pure and regal as you knew me, And as I am, and as you know me still. Do not pity me. I think I once or twice Have known such joy that the bare memory Bends me like Shiva's bow in your hands Cools my seared spirit like the shade In our forest exile, where no slander followed us. It is only that I am weary. Insensate, loving, I shall kiss you as the flesh of summer fruit Torn between your teeth; your unknowing feet Will tread me as silk grass in scorching summer. I will do you good, and feel not the offense.
September 23rd, 2016