out for the days
of waiting, still-live
cigarette butt-ends
on the expectant
ashtray (the smitten
one) that the Urdu
poet of lilting
lines and starry
fantasies puffed
calling at you
with coiling capers:
Pick them up, touch
them to your lips
inhale your breath,
phlegm, desire
in and out quick
before someone’s
footfalls come
running in scrutiny
of what’s smoking
between hearts and
long days of wild-
fire imagination
of love’s ink-stained
heart of Amrita Pritam.
by Nabina Das
Nabina Das lives two lives, shuttling between USA and India. Her short story will appear in a collection of fiction from all around the world (Mirage Books, India). Her poetry was published most recently in The Toronto Quarterly, The Cartier Street Review, and Maintenant 3 (Three Rooms Press), and is forthcoming in Quay, Sheher anthology (Frog Books, India) and Liberated Muse anthology. Formally trained in Indian classical music, she has performed in radio/TV programs and acted in street theater productions in India. A journalist for 10-odd years, a nonprofit worker, and a Linguistics masters, Nabina has spent enough time interpreting smoke signals.Nabina's websites
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