Letitia Jiju

This Too is a Poem is a Prayer, Unclasping

over the crest of memory:

O gold-rimmed matzo: tremble.
O teeth; stigmata—

then I peel the hard-boiled egg of my own grief.
& what is life but a breaking in

                    someone’s hands?

                   fireflies limn the shore of 
his limbs celestine. I rend as I remember 
I no longer god-walk this sea. 

                          Nor rest the weary hind legs of 
a kiss by his ear

                           breath unbridled 

from the silt-slippery conch-shell of my body:
                                   listen. Hold me and listen 
to an ocean 

How to wring myself out of this washcloth of remembrance? 
I have sopped up the last of his gravy. I am

                            stained      by his laugh.
On my skin on his skin.

& what is love but a seeping in

of sorts?

A running under water, 

                    a gentle rub

                                                a squeeze,

a laying out?

Originally appeared in Tigers Zine.


Letitia Jiju is an Indian poet who through her work explores the intermingling of mother tongue, religion & generational trauma. Her poems have appeared/are forthcoming in trampset, ANMLY, The Lumiere Review, Moist Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. She reads poetry for Psaltery & Lyre. Find her on Instagram/Twitter @eaturlettuce.