Mammography
After the maze of doors,
we walk towards the orb
of foretelling. No words
are spoken here
except for a single soliloquy
redressing my two heads
until they are one
or fewer. Reduced
to a fine line,
my conductor gestures
for me to be as calm
as a lake, and flattens
my world to see through
its skin like lace. One
by one, my lives
are placed in a room
heavy with lead,
and separated
into flesh and blood
as if each is autonomous.
After the topography
is studied, gloved hands
return me to myself, and like
liquid, I form the shape
of my vessel again.
The verdict is pronounced:
the landmass is infected,
its earth, rotting. Time
still flows, but it’ll stagnate
soon. No solution
appears before us, save
to clothe myself
in shadows, and follow
the descent of my breath.
Breasts
Like stemless flowers
dying alongside each other,
my breasts shrivel
into sunless inexistence,
each deflated convexity
a bare stone rolling down
the bone of my bone,
tracing skeletal conversations,
settling to the bottom of the sea,
raising the water levels a smidge.
Woman
I measured it: four hip-clicks
from the bed to the stance
of a deity. The moon
behind the head is a dome
fed on history.
A conversation in tongues,
of elements of the body,
roots through heaven
like a search and rescue.
A long neck (but not so long
that it’s absurd; just enough
to hold the possibility
of life) oversees the stars.
Two limbs double
like colleagues in tandem.
Heat generates a path,
the scent of pheromones,
and something else.
A single word
holds the body through years
of devotion, whispered
in secret,
like release.
Domesticated
Instead of cotton, she wears gossamer
woven by spiderlings. She floats
from room to room with the wind
in her pallu. A feather duster
extends from her hand
like a wand, making cleaning
a breeze. Her limbs, attuned to chores,
meld into household accoutrements.
By the day’s end, she becomes
square footage.
The whispers of her ability to fly
at will are accurate, but as ever,
the gender divide is impassable.
pallu: a part of the sari draped over the shoulder
Author’s Bio:
Suchita Parikh-Mundul is a writer and copy editor. Her poems have appeared in literary magazines like Narrow Road, The Bombay Literary Magazine, Yugen Quest Review, Outlook India, Muse India, Sahitya Akademi’s Indian Literature, and anthologies such as Amity: peace poems (ed. Sahana Ahmed, Hawakal, 2022), The Well-Earned (ed. Kiriti Sengupta, Hawakal, 2022), and international compilations. Her articles have appeared in print magazines as well as websites.
