Sometimes I think I grew a taste
for the dead. Did you hear
the tale of young ones buried
for the sake of fecundity,
what feeds the life, how they claimed
the land, sowed and harvested those
sweet things? My hands strangle a mango,
its blood floods down my fingers,
my cheek. You say I know no
manners. I know. I know. I
grew a taste for what lies in deep.
Kushal Poddar (born 1977) India
Source: Body
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