We Two Women Can Father A Child

By LINDA ASHOK

While you play with your tresses,
and suckle your diamond with trust,
while you play with the bubbles
in your lime-soda with that straw,
there’s something you are trying
to place and I am missing it.

While you tow my stilettos with yours,
fleece the tissue and craft roses that you
shove in my cleavage, while you order
our favorite fish and chips and tease
me by your sudden claim of my last bite,
there’s something you are trying
to place and I am missing it.

While you ask me if my mother still longs
for my dad after 30 years of their separation,
if my child would be okay with two mothers
or if you be the softer one or I when the moon
has left the streets and birds have gone
back to their prayers, there are many
clues you have placed, and you know it all.

 

[Purchase Issue 15 here.]

Linda Ashok, author of whorelight, was the 2017 Charles Wallace India Trust Fellow in Creative Writing (Poetry) at the University of Chichester, UK. Her poems and reviews have appeared or are forthcoming in several publications, including The Common, Crab Orchard Review, the Big Bridge Anthology of Contemporary Indian Poetry, Mascara Literary Review, The Rumpus, and others. Ashok is the founder/president of RædLeaf Foundation for Poetry & Allied Arts and sponsors the annual RL Poetry Award (since 2013). More at lindaashok.com.

We Two Women Can Father A Child

Related Posts

poetry feature image

January 2021 Poetry Feature: Bruce Bond

BRUCE BOND
I was just another creature crawling from the mausoleum, / and I thought, so this is it, the place in the final chapter / where I am judged for all my cruelties, blunders, failures of attention, / and I waited for the furies to take me, or some such host. / But it was just another morning.

Sky full of comets

Poems in Translation from Bestia di gioia

MARIANGELA GUALTIERI
And he soars / saved, outstretched / untouched by the gravity that pins us / down / we deserters of empty spaces and heights / shadows cast / into modest taverns for a bite. / Heads in capitals / of rust. / A lifetime annuity of darkness. / Only a cry can save us now.

poetry feature image

December 2020 Poetry Feature: Denise Duhamel and Jeffrey Harrison

DENISE DUHAMEL
Where was I / when I was 20? I’d already been accepted / as an exchange student, taking my first plane ride / to London where I’d catch a train / to Wales. On that first flight, I sat next to a woman / in a shawl—how old was she? It’s hard to say.