Starfish, splayed palm, ginseng leaf.
Were these shapeshifts all one life?
It’s all a goose chase.
Birth, death, birth? Some life.
Make love, says death, please, act like I’m not here.
I think a flush to the cheeks becomes life.
After a lifetime in the pits
I’ve landed myself a plum life.
It takes lifetimes to process one request.
Death is the bureaucracy that runs life.
I had felt his kicks against my cheek.
Still, when I held him, I was stunned. Life!
Too proud to pray, are you, Amit?
Come here and beg for your son’s life.