Bombay Sandwich (for Ranvir Shah)

Snow-white, thick-sliced,
rimmed by a light crust of rainbow ripples—
the lilting bread melts in his mouth
like a small, edible city of joy.
Born in blue daylight,
he sees his mother’s reflection in the pomegranate sky;
his youth turns outrageously buttery,
seeping into everything—
over homework margins,
over afternoons of secret Lego worlds.
Raw carrot, cucumber,
Siberian lettuce—an unfamiliar lover—
layered with longing, a delayed taste,
luring his hunger to rise like the sleeping seashore.
The night shivers like soft violin tears—
she has returned from a moonlit ride;
he whispers into her eyes,
a tide waiting for him on the Marina beach.
Yes, tomorrow is not such a long time.
One day, I too will taste his Bombay sandwich