Unwed
By Maheen Hyder
A steam ship leaves the coast in Kadıköy
slipping into a tunnel of sun as I count ways
to forgive shrapnel for stealing your heartbeat
Metal pushes into a startling pull pitch crawls
down a lung A galloping of eyelashes is how I imagine
breath siphoned from your body
Silence is a sort of running too In a city of hills
pointing myself skyward feels like a betrayal This life
was never supposed to be possible without you
Here I am two years since staircase teethed
your silhouette into disappearance Silver found
in your belongings scratching a tremor in me
It would have been a good marriage quiet
carcass of fists pulsing with worship Our litany
for survival bread is ballot is safe house
Still I miss the lemon extract in our tea sitar player
outside the window tulips folded into your pocket
all ragged and pink me refusing to look up
to take anything not steeped in your touch
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Maheen Hyder is a Pakistani poet and clinical social worker currently living in Toronto.