Poetry

You are landing
in all my poems. Mirror
speaks death from death
life from life.

Born in clay oven.
I praise god. You leave
your handprints.
Loaves were mine.

Was it not insulting
fire? A catastrophe? I
worshiped the goddess Agni
for its immaculateness.

An eagle makes
a preemptive dive
at interphase of lips and
tearful eyes.