patch of sky
by Sanchari Sur
Image credit: © 2015 Sanchari Sur
i dream of a patch of sky
peaking from the freedom of rooftops
a staple “back home”
carapaces hidden
from prying eyes the site of my
first kiss also my first
violation when i was
eleven
sacred spaces revered
through juvenile games with the maid’s
daughter kitchen-kitchen
house-house
hide and
seek
points of rendezvous that one summer
when i let a boy older than i
fondle me in a corner
wondering why was it that my
chest did not heave like
those busty bollywood heroines
i imitate exposing myself
a poor copy
in this new home
a sterile backyard
compact patch of grass baba mows
each day religiously after work
his piece of heaven fenced by
cookie cutter houses wooden
boundaries shuttering in his plot of
freedom secured after sweating
immigrant sweat
in this land of multiculturalisms
my neo-colonized body struggles
to breathe a fish out of water
i wrestle to carve out
a patch of sky
questioning
whether i have unwittingly
stolen
Sanchari Sur is a feminist/ anti-racist/ sex-positive/ genderqueer Canadian who was born in Calcutta, India. Her work has been published in Map Literary, The Nervous Breakdown, The Feminist Wire, Women in Clothes (Penguin 2014) and elsewhere, and she has work forthcoming in Matrix Magazine and Canadian Women in the Literary Arts. A PhD candidate in English at Wilfrid Laurier University, she tweets at @sanchari_sur, and blogs at http://sursanchari.wordpress.com.
Image credit: © 2015 Sanchari Sur
