someone stole her voice
on a moving bus.
suddenly the city
stops churning, and stares.
pungent with the smell of alcohol that
you, we, couldn’t afford to have,
and I wish that your love
That night at Cox Bazar he ate them,
His hunger wouldn’t end.
My parents too pick me up without fail every time I land
at the Bhubaneswar airport. 17 times in the last 6 years. I count
because cumulation offers resilience that nostalgia