shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Anuja Ghimire

Page 1 | 2

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