boshra anjum / 2 poems
fire blossoms
we watch as the day
peels its skin
back, city skyline bleeding
into the red sun.
cherry blossoms fall
to stone like embers
wreathed into forgotten love
letters, crumbling to ash.
pining, fleeting,
smouldering soft flesh.
this spring sunset exhales
too thick
to breathe in
its crimson smoke.
RAIN CRADLE
we need to break
not quick, but in adagio.
to lie against the pavement’s breath
and let the monsoon trace
its slow requiem
down our spines.
let us seep, not shatter,
into the softened seams
of stone. fading
flames cradled by rain.
we need a river
that does not ask
which storms we’ve crossed
and ferries, in steady refrain,
the ashes we’ve become.