SHRIPARNA SARKAR

EBB

when the glint is fresh

spreading out the soul
is always easy
like taking in
an ocean of stars

although
a tincture of defeat is
what settles in
when their venom is grilled

folded up, then
the ocean is just bitter spit

the inside of the head forgets to speak
or lay cushions in the right places

then
caught in the mesh
and iced
I wait for you to crash
onto my left palm.