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