Three Poems – by Kashvi Chandok

by TBLM

How does one speak of love

amnesia is an attic full of salvation,
a tainted spine brewing soft waters into memory.

you speak a language recently forgotten,
of sentences reeking of mason jars and tombstones;
weaving a sister tongue of lost identity

I often wonder if you remember how warm figs taste like, or the scent of sour raisins staining your shoulder,

If it were up to me, I would kiss words into your mouth, breath them with silken tenderness and tuck them behind your teeth so you never have to sing a lullaby of wounded silence.

today, I find you try to form my name at the back of your tongue, moving your lips along the shape of my skin;

your words hover around like a
nostalgia in waiting
and outcomes a hand.

you only remember me in parts.

*

Offshore

(To preserve the format of the poem, we have made it available in a PDF document. Please click here to access.)

*

A familiar swing

(To preserve the format of the poem, we have made it available in a PDF document. Please click here to access.)

***