Entangled one with another they watch us. / The good died too soon.
(translations)
Category: Art
O, old ocean! the river has mixed with your waters / where I so often bathed
In the weeks and months after the operation, he’d wake from sleep, sounds tooting up from his throat not so much snores as noisy requests for air.
(fiction)
Michelangelo said, / “I saw the angel in the marble / And carved until I set him free.”
(poetry)
Revolution / is the party we throw / at our unhappiness when we discover it / looks like tyranny
(poetry)
“I look up to those people who have nothing at all but their own body, which is used to the core: the rickshaw pullers, the sweepers, the mothers in rags…”
(fiction)
The roof soars so high above the sky’s hanging at arm’s length / And you, dear, are now drunk on a thousand glasses of wine
“Looking up / the wave of your gaze arrived / upon my shore.”
He demands I be a man. What is it to be a man? I ask him.
“In this story, day zero is when I live, and you die.”
(fiction)
