fireflies offer candles &
the night knows that but you
you shiver when my papillae tastes
your fibrous roots from Karachi, Pakistan
& yet, you beg for more
the lavender orchids on your verandah
reminds me of the thick violet blood
blood my brothers shed the night of March 25th 1971
to win independence against you
& yet, here you are, wooing a Bengali with your
sultry Urdu words, slinky movements of your tongue
& here I am, wooed
pushing you- pulling you in Bangla
you begin to think you have me
kuttar baccha, I don’t trust you.
Sanjida Yasmin is a Bengali American storyteller and poet whose work explores South Asian traditions, transient movements from East to West, and most importantly, the mystery of time. Raised in the Bronx, NY, she graduated from The City College of New York where she wrote her MFA thesis on the senescence of mortals. She is a writer by night, lecturer by day.