What You Can’t Conceal Will Tell Itself
Photo: Karan Madhok
Poem: ‘stumbling and mumbling it shows itself / in a half unscathed smile / in ragged dirty clothes, / my love homes itself before it gathers space.’
i clench my fingers like poetry clenches feelings—
tight, scarring, silent, consuming
a fist.
my love slithers and fills itself in crevices
it spies
on glances, strokes, edges
stumbling and mumbling it shows itself
in a half unscathed smile
in ragged dirty clothes,
my love homes itself before it gathers space.
love is like my fingers
it clenches tight and consuming.
how love tells itself before you do
but when it asserts it suspends in your palm
heaving breathing sighing, it lives.
nudging, prodding to flair longer
like the last bit of scent on my skin.
it is in the spaces in lines:
between words
on our palms,
that weaves and clenches feelings,
and every time i read a poem, i knit a glove.
***
Manasha Sharma is a literature student and an independent writer based in New Delhi. She writes on books, arts, and culture. You can find her on Instagram: @manasharchive and X/Twitter: @manasharchive.
