THE FILM by Amrita Chakraborty


to a silken reverberation i entrust my rope. to its coursing unwieldy body, ephemerous almost kind i listened for the drums when i was six or the raveling flute and honey in my mouth now i listen for the total or i imagine myself to be now i fall like the dancer with the dull gold anklet the feminine sound of it this song does not become me i do not become it but grander than my indecision is the implacable solution it presents if now you were to touch me you would wince at the warmth of me you would see me through the film i see you through the film then the flute, it stops and up the air opens

AMRITA CHAKRABORTY is a Bangladeshi-American writer from New York. Her work has been published by Winter Tangerine, Glass Poets Resist, Augur Magazine, and others. She has also self-published a mini-chapbook entitled Incarnate and was a winner of the 2018 Golden Shovel Poetry Prize. You can read more of her work at http://medium.com/@amrita.chakraborty. Follow Amrita on Twitter.

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