Anuja Ghimire
Fire in a Cage
The first time, the stench
I was playing hide and seek in a temple
She hid under a shroud near the river
The muslin, pure white and whole
The hair still flowed until I touched a few strands
And it crumbled into ashes
Then again, years later,
When I tried to sauté ghee and coriander seeds
The flames leapt from the ladle to finish my locks
The gray shreds of life still fall from my fingertips
Because I know fire waits
Even in the rocks not yet rubbed together
And we let it burn
Bio
Anuja Ghimire is from Kathmandu. Her poetry is published in Riverlit, Glass, Clay, Ishaan Literary Review, Zest, Right Hand Pointing, Stone Path Review, and Constellations . She lives in Dallas.