Prayer to Recognize the Body There must be a word for this heart-growing, to explain these teeth, stinging skin like a gift, tremble of hair coaxed from sweat and scalp. The next thing I covet: the third eye’s velvet blink, the green pulse in my veins of a forest I can’t make myself step out of. And what of all the things remade, swabbed free of salt? Because who can tell the difference in the dark between antlers and branches and bone, between the thick-haired chest of an animal and you. Previously published in Passages North. Born in New Delhi, India, Vandana Khanna is the author of two collections: Train to Agra and Afternoon Masala, as well as the chapbook, The Goddess Monologues. Her poems have won the Crab Orchard Review First Book Prize, The Miller Williams Arkansas Poetry Prize, and the Diode Editions Chapbook Competition. Comments are closed.
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Blog HostNatasha Kochicheril Moni is a writer and a licensed naturopath in WA State. Enjoying this blog? Feel free to put a little coffee in Natasha's cup, right here. Archives
October 2019
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