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    The Sun and Her Flowers

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      excited and terrified for what’s to come

      he smiles

      knows this is what satisfaction looks like

      i am a switchboard

      he is the circuits

      my hips move with his—rhythmic

      my voice isn’t my own when i moan—it is music

      like fingers on a violin string

      he sparks enough electricity within me to power a city

      when we finish i look right at him

      and tell him

      that was magic

      when i walked into the coffee shop and saw you. my body did not react like it had the first time. i waited for my heart to abandon me. for my legs to freeze up. to fall to the ground crying at your sight. nothing happened. there was no connection or movement inside when we locked eyes. you looked like a regular guy with your regular clothes and regular coffee. nothing profound about you. i don’t give myself enough credit. my body must have cleansed itself of you long ago. must have gotten tired of me behaving like i’d lost the best thing to have happened. and wrung the insecurities out while i was busy wallowing in pity. that day i had no makeup on. my hair was all over the place. i was wearing my brother’s old t-shirt and pajama pants. yet i felt like a gleaming siren. a mermaid. i did a little dance in the car while driving home. even though we were both under the same roof of that coffee shop. i was still solar systems away from you.

      the orange trees refused to blossom

      unless we bloomed first

      when we met

      they wept tangerines

      can’t you tell

      the earth has waited its whole life for this

      - celebration

      why am i always running in circles

      between wanting you to want me

      and when you want me

      deciding it is too emotionally naked

      for me to live with

      why do i make loving me so difficult

      as if you should never have to witness

      the ghosts i have tucked under my breast

      i used to be more open

      when it came to matters like this my love

      - if only we’d met when i was that willing

      i could not contain myself any longer

      i ran to the ocean

      in the middle of the night

      and confessed my love for you to the water

      as i finished telling her

      the salt in her body became sugar

      (ode to sobha singh’s sohni mahiwal)

      i say maybe this is a mistake. maybe we need more than love to make this work.

      you place your lips on mine. when our faces are buzzing with the ecstasy of kissing you say tell me that isn’t right. and as much as i’d like to think with my head. my racing heart is all that makes sense. there. right there is the answer you’re looking for. in my loss of breath. my lack of words. my silence. my inability to speak means you’ve filled my stomach with so many butterflies that even if this is a mistake. it could only be right to be this wrong with you.

      a

      man

      who cries

      - a gift

      if i’m going to share my life with a partner

      it would be foolish not to ask myself

      twenty years from now

      is this person going to be

      someone i still laugh with

      or am i just distracted by their charm

      do i see us evolving into

      new people by the decade

      or does the growing ever come to a pause

      i don’t want to be distracted

      by the looks or the money

      i want to know if they pull

      the best or the worst out of me

      deep at the core are our values the same

      in thirty years will we still

      jump into bed like we’re twenty

      can i picture us in old age

      conquering the world

      like we’ve got young blood

      running in our veins

      - checklist

      what is it with you and sunflowers he asks

      i point to the field of yellow outside

      sunflowers worship the sun i tell him

      only when it arrives do they rise

      when the sun leaves

      they bow their heads in mourning

      that is what the sun does to those flowers

      it’s what you do to me

      - the sun and her flowers

      sometimes

      i stop myself from

      saying the words out loud

      as if leaving my mouth too often

      might wear them down

      - i love you

      the most important conversations

      we’ll have are with our fingers

      when yours nervously graze mine

      for the first time during dinner

      they’ll tighten with fear

      when you ask to see me again next week

      but as soon as i say yes

      they’ll stretch out in ease

      when they grasp one another

      while we’re beneath the sheets

      the two of us will pretend

      we’re not weak in the knees

      when i get angry

      they’ll pulse with bitter cries

      but when they tremble for forgiveness

      you’ll see what apologies look like

      and when one of us is dying

      on a hospital bed at eighty-five

      your fingers will grip mine

      to say things words can’t describe

      - fingers

      this morning

      i told the flowers

      what i’d do for you

      and they blossomed

      there is no place

      i end and you begin

      when your body

      is in my body

      we are one person

      - sex

      if i had to walk to get to you

      it would take eight hundred and twenty-six hours

      on bad days i think about it

      what i might do if the apocalypse comes

      and the planes stop flying

      there is so much time to think

      so much empty space wanting to be consumed

      but no intimacy around to consume it

      it feels like being stuck at a train station

      waiting and waiting and waiting

      for the one with your name on it

      when the moon rises on this coast

      but the sun still burns shamelessly on yours

      i crumble knowing even our skies are different

      we have been together so long

      but have we really been together if

      your touch has not held me long enough

      to imprint itself on my skin

      i try my hardest to stay present

      but without you here

      everything at its best

      is only mediocre

      - long distance

      i am

      made of water

      of course i am emotional

      they should feel like home

      a place that grounds your life

      where you go to take the day off

      - the one

      the moon is responsible

      for pulling tides

      out of still water

      darling

      i am the still water

      and you are the moon

      the right one does not

      stand in your way

      they make space for you

      to step forward

      when y
    ou are

      full

      and i am

      full

      we are two suns

      your voice does to me

      what autumn does to trees

      you call to say hello

      and my clothes fall naturally

      together we are an endless conversation

      when death

      takes my hand

      i will hold you with the other

      and promise to find you

      in every lifetime

      - commitment

      it was as though

      someone had slid ice cubes

      down the back of my shirt

      - orgasm

      you have

      been

      inside me

      before

      - another lifetime

      god must have kneaded you and i

      from the same dough

      rolled us out as one on the baking sheet

      must have suddenly realized

      how unfair it was

      to put that much magic in one person

      and sadly split that dough in two

      how else is it that

      when i look in the mirror

      i am looking at you

      when you breathe

      my own lungs fill with air

      that we just met but we

      have known each other our whole lives

      if we were not made as one to begin with

      - our souls are mirrors

      to be

      two legs

      on one body

      - a relationship

      you must have a

      honeycomb

      for a heart

      how else

      could a man

      be this sweet

      if you got any more beautiful

      the sun would leave its place

      and come for you

      - the chase

      it has been one of the greatest and most difficult years of my life. i learned everything is temporary. moments. feelings. people. flowers. i learned love is about giving. everything. and letting it hurt. i learned vulnerability is always the right choice because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft. i learned all things come in twos. life and death. pain and joy. salt and sugar. me and you. it is the balance of the universe. it has been the year of hurting so bad but living so good. making friends out of strangers. making strangers out of friends. learning mint chocolate chip ice cream will fix just about everything. and for the pains it can’t there will always be my mother’s arms. we must learn to focus on warm energy. always. soak our limbs in it and become better lovers to the world. for if we can’t learn to be kind to each other how will we ever learn to be kind to the most desperate parts of ourselves.

      the universe took its time on you

      crafted you to offer the world

      something different from everyone else

      when you doubt

      how you were created

      you doubt an energy greater than us both

      - irreplaceable

      when the first woman spread her legs

      to let the first man in

      what did he see

      when she led him down the hallway

      toward the sacred room

      what sat waiting

      what shook him so deeply

      that all confidence shattered

      from then on

      the first man

      watched the first woman

      every night and day

      built a cage to keep her in

      so she could sin no more

      he set fire to her books

      called her witch

      and shouted whore

      until the evening came

      when his tired eyes betrayed him

      the first woman noticed it

      as he unwillingly fell asleep

      the quiet humming

      the drumming

      a knocking between her legs

      a doorbell

      a voice

      a pulse

      asking her to open up

      and off her hand went running

      down the hall

      toward the sacred room

      she found

      god

      the magician’s wand

      the snake’s tongue

      sitting inside her smiling

      - when the first woman drew magic with her fingers

      i will no longer

      compare my path to others

      - i refuse to do a disservice to my life

      i am the product of all the ancestors getting together

      and deciding these stories need to be told

      many tried

      but failed to catch me

      i am the ghost of ghosts

      everywhere and nowhere

      i am magic tricks

      within magic within magic

      none have figured out

      i am a world wrapped in worlds

      folded in suns and moons

      you can try but

      you won’t get those hands on me

      upon my birth

      my mother said

      there is god in you

      can you feel her dancing

      (ode to matisse’s dance)

      as a father of three daughters

      it would have been normal

      for him to push marriage on us

      this has been the narrative for

      the women in my culture for hundreds of years

      instead he pushed education

      knowing it would set us free

      in a world that wanted to contain us

      he made sure that we learned

      to walk independently

      there are far too many mouths here

      but not enough of them are worth

      what you’re offering

      give yourself to a few

      and to those few

      give heavily

      - invest in the right people

      i am of the earth

      and to the earth i shall return once more

      life and death are old friends

      and i am the conversation between them

      i am their late-night chatter

      their laughter and tears

      what is there to be afraid of

      if i am the gift they give to each other

      this place never belonged to me anyway

      i have always been theirs

      to hate

      is an easy lazy thing

      but to love

      takes strength

      everyone has

      but not all are

      willing to practice

      beautiful brown girl

      your thick hair is a mink coat not all can afford

      beautiful brown girl

      you hate the hyperpigmentation

      but your skin can’t help

      carrying as much sun as possible

      you are a magnet for the light

      unibrow—the bridging of two worlds

      vagina—so much darker than the rest of you

      cause it is trying to hide a gold mine

      you will have dark circles too early

      —appreciate the halos

      beautiful brown girl

      you pull god out of their bellies

      look down at your body

      whisper

      there is no home like you

      - thank you

      learning to not envy

      someone else’s blessings

      is what grace looks like
    r />   i am the first woman in my lineage with freedom of choice. to craft her future whichever way i choose. say what is on my mind when i want to. without the whip of the lash. there are hundreds of firsts i am thankful for. that my mother and her mother and her mother did not have the privilege of feeling. what an honor. to be the first woman in the family who gets to taste her desires. no wonder i am starving to fill up on this life. i have generations of bellies to eat for. the grandmothers must be howling with laughter. huddled around a mud stove in the afterlife. sipping on steaming glasses of milky masala chai. how wild it must be for them to see one of their own living so boldly.

      (ode to amrita sher-gil’s village scene 1938)

      trust your body

      it reacts to right and wrong

      better than your mind does

      - it is speaking to you

      i stand

      on the sacrifices

      of a million women before me

      thinking

      what can i do

      to make this mountain taller

      so the women after me

      can see farther

      - legacy

      when i go from this place

      dress the porch with garlands

      as you would for a wedding my dear

      pull the people from their homes

      and dance in the streets

      when death arrives

      like a bride at the aisle

      send me off in my brightest clothing

      serve ice cream with rose petals to our guests

      there’s no reason to cry my dear

      i have waited my whole life

      for such a beauty to take

      my breath away

      when i go

      let it be a celebration

      for i have been here

     

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