BANANA BREAD

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What do I worship to receive

this blessing in my hands

with fingers

in so many unholy places.

 

I once stroked a bird until my last breath,

buried her in omens falling

from unfiltered prayers.

 

Reborn in the filth of the past,

milk, flowers and honey

in my palms,

I cannot bring it to my lips

for fear of drowning

in the leaf

floating in my fists, buoyant

with turmeric and swollen grains,

camphor, cooked fruits and sandalwood paste

all sprinkled

with cholera from the ganga.

 

What do I worship to receive

this blessing in my hands

baking and aching

for some wild idol.

 

*First published in The Waxed Lemon, July 2022.

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