Poetry Section: Circles

Written By

Reema Ahmad

Circles poem-12 Loading

When you find yourself

Parched or battered pink

From too much loving

And it is yet another man

Or your own folly

That has left you in a pool

Of blood or tears

Remember

There is no other balm

As soothing as the touch of

Female fingers

Mothers daughters

Aunts friends

Sisters by blood or accident

They will open their

Tired hearts to you

Bare their own raw wounds

So your story doesn’t feel

The prick of loneliness

Soft bosoms and tender kisses

Will welcome you back to

The home of your self

Gentle hands will push

You back to work

At sewing whatever is left of

Your tattered dreams

Warm bodies will let you nest

And hatch all over again

The doors to some houses

Never close no matter how

Many times you knock

Come sit here awhile

We know blood beyond the

Monthly gift of goddesses

We have tasted the salt

Of tears growing

On our tongues like

An ancient fungus

We know desire like the

Primal call of waves

Rippling unstoppable yearning

For the moon

Always out of reach

Come

You are not alone

Not till there is

One woman for another

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I have been a closet writer and poet for as long as I can remember. The tiny little Braveheart in me has recently gathered some courage to peep out at the world in short glimpses. The world seems to be an incredulous place, it scares me with it's self assured swagger. I hope to stare back at it someday with just as much confidence. I studied at Lady Shri Ram College, Delhi University, and continue to offend people with my feminist streak. In real time, I teach English and conduct Child Sexual Abuse Awareness workshops for kids living in small and grown up bodies. I am also a hesitant single mother whose purpose as a parent is to make her child see beauty in ugliness and to embrace the eccentricities of existence and his own self with grace and kindness. I read, read, read and travel when I can afford it. I cannot stand the offensive energy of bakers, parenting and food bloggers. It is an insult to my inherent laziness. I am, above all, a life long learner.

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