Three books and a pen mirror purpose on the table; woolly balls of dust fly about......

Thirty years back my breasts galloped blindly on a train rushing through cold fields. I stood......

We hardly go to the rooms upstairs where Amma spends all her time though nobody has......

I remember grief being heavy: I was carrying a dull, dead weight. It was enervating. I......

1. It is your thrust that shakes me; Your arrogant commandof our breath our fleshour luscious......

I am told my weight in bird carcasses,hollow-boned, as gilded deities. My mother wants me to......

“Dry-hearted as Peer GyntI pare away, no hero,merely a cook.”– Peeling Onions, Adrienne Rich I want......

Spring, 1972. Aathiyappan felt like ants were crawling all over his body. This feeling had persisted......

Lying low and mysterious like tombsOf bone, my knees invite glances of intrigued eyesWhen in a......

March comes with the ghosts of wintercollapsing on my bed, orphaned and fragrant as petals torn,......