Winner of The Antonym February Poetry Contest

Artwork by Sumona Rahman Choudhury

bird of my breath uncaged, warping
its feathered ribs around a petrol night.

did I ever imagine an inhale?

you note – things used to be simpler,

when we tumbled around the globe,
one foot, one foot, one hand on either

side of continents, running
out of limbs fast, but look:

we were happy with the game of twister.

now what? now put, now barred behind
exiles of black windows, and every night:

rain like sorrow, a detuned violin.

untransformed pain is transmitted,
you add while lighting a candle. to spell

every broken branch on the tree

would take more nights than the moon
can afford.