A Poem On The Nature of Things
By Ashish Kumar Singh
A Poem On The Nature Of Things
It is only for safety
that birds rush to the sky,
leaving the arms of a tree
but where would we go
if land is what haunts us.
According to biology,
every animal survives
by fleeing the scene of danger
but all I ever seem to do
is to persevere, try to outlive
the violence itself. Once,
there was a man
who followed me into the toilet,
made the yellow tiles kiss
my knees and like a rat
already caught between
the claws of some street dog,
I waited for the burden
of the day to leave his body.
He said every action of love
was a fist thrown against the body,
every kiss a bite on the skin
and that gentleness was a sign
of its leaving. I remember
the first time I said
I love you to a boy,
his knuckles bruised my jaws
purple. But this cannot
be the only form of love
because ma always says
something different, something
which involves lightness,
something like the touch of first
snow. I am a devoted son
so I believe her and she proves
herself right by saying
that when birds sing in the morning,
they do not all sing
the same song.
Me Looking At Him.
After Jenna Gribbon’s 2018 painting “Me Looking At Her Looking At Me”
In the distance, birds sing some song
they must have picked from another country
and because I am embarrassed to get
caught looking at his face, I look
at his legs instead. In the early morning light,
his brown skin looks like polished wood,
made smooth with the touch of many hands.
I feel envious and want to hold him
like a father would his child, like a mouth
this language. The first time we met, we met
via an app because it felt safer,
because our desires need not to be said
in person, because it was already spelled
quick fuck beneath pictures of our faceless bodies.
We didn’t even bother with lights, groped
in darkness like animals in hedges and it was
only after a week when we met again,
that I took his face in the dimness of a sun
already extinguished. Now, for reasons
I cannot explain, like a devotee puzzled
at finding his plea returned, I shift
to look at his face to find him looking at me.
Ashish Kumar Singh (he/him) is a queer poet from India with a Master’s degree in English Literature. His works have appeared, or are forthcoming, in Passages North, Chestnut Review, Fourteen Poems, Foglifter Press, Banshee, and elsewhere. Currently, he serves as an editorial assistant at Visual Verse and reads poetry submissions for ANMLY.
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JiaHao Peng was born and raised in Wenling, China, and attended school in Columbus, Ohio. He currently lives and works in Los Angeles. A visual artist and plant enthusiast with experience in the art industry, he founded the creative studio Ten Ten Photosynthesis, which offers comprehensive services that include ornamental plants, floral arrangements, plant installations, and photography.
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