वंश वास्ते विरासत

Xenophobic;

my skin repels affections

from greedy eyes and unchaste hands

I wrap myself in black,

not of cloth or colour,

but black of the shadow –

the shadow of grief borne by

my mother and her mother before her

and then some.

A grief, so overwhelmingly pungent, crippling;

an isolating demon, this grief  was born

in our bleeding wombs;

it settled below our skin,

took roots and grew like hair;

our prohibited tongues nourished it;

it matured in the constraints of our vision;

under the deafening tumult

of oppression and abuse, it orgasmed;

with every breath of fear

and with every bloody tear,

it produced an offspring

waiting to feast upon our next generation.

17 Comments

  1. You did something simply captivating here:

    “under the deafening tumult

    of oppression and abuse, it orgasmed;

    with every breath of fear

    and with every bloody tear,

    it produced an offspring.”

    This is astounding.

    Like

  2. Stunning and so powerfully evocative. Wow!

    there is sheer force, almost a brutality to the phrases and lines, but yet, they speak of something more – beyond the surface – almost liquid – blood like – fluids that run the river in our bodies and spirits – that can destroy and yet nurture.

    there is something somehow, essentially life-affirming and giving in this very raw piece – it is almost like a fleeting “intangible” ….

    excellent excellent write 🙂

    Like

  3. How do such ideas come together and radiate with such strength and resonate such depth, I’ll never fathom but always be awed by.

    Like

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