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July 2013, vol 9, no 2

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Kushal Poddar

Sugar, Stifle Me with Someone Else's Dream

I stretch out of my unplanned and crowded roofline morning everyday without noticing it. This, an everyday day. My neighbor's wife opens her window and then shuts the same urgently. I have an empty cup of sugar. I tell myself- no borrowing from someone else's future. The tea tastes better bitter. I sip into this mode. It takes time. At first, morning meant sugar. The sugar craved for cream. The cream cried for some half-imagined dream. It murmured, Sugar, overdose me please. Someone else's memory, it seems now, I borrowed it and forgot to return. I loved its sweaty back of the hand when it stifled me slow and firm.

a cup of sugar
eyes float on the tea

roofline light
kitchen bottles on the window sill
wait for the end of my cleaning