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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