light of
recognition
reflected
aimlessly
his body along
will hover.
As now you will
say: Can I?
Repeating
Let Me. Be
Mine.
And the Many
in the forest
turn concrete. Your breath
a staggering
plateau. The delicate marriage
of bones.
An oar
unraveled
Whatever
rippled
roughly shaped
like
another orbit
similarities we
must reclaim.
An I on the
other side
the other hand,
awakens
architecture.
like mica
inside the eyes.
Wheat, dirt
elongated
seasons.
That move, so
assured.
Biswamit Dwibedy is the author of Ozalid (1913 Press, 2010), Eirik’s Ocean (Portable Press, 2016) and Ancient Guest (HarperCollins, 2017). He guest-edited a dossier of Indian poetry for Aufgabe13, published by Litmus Press, and edits Anew Print, a small-press focused on translations from India. He was also a judge for the Best Translated Book Award in 2015. He has an MFA in writing from Bard College and teaches in Bangalore.
the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan
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