Vamika Sinha

cartography

by: Vamika Sinha

take care – i mishear –of the light. it is supposed to guide me home, it chides me go, play

cosmic jazz in the afternoon sunlight weak-kneed from a punch in its warm gut doubled over: it’s cold

outside, solange sings brown sugar, brown face and i have it all in my cupboard:

mama’s hair oil & extra chilli flakes & chopped ‘n’ stewed chicken in a flora tub & aamir khan films off the head of my tongue, my muddy beautiful english tongue & fish curry every thursday (for the protein!) & aloe vera juice for saharan sweat & brandy’s ‘piano man’ in the car on the way home from school, i have dropped geography class to write maps: letters making symbols making image; craggy hikes into memory laid flat, my oiled scalp under mama’s hot palm smoothing my head, my runny yolky scrambled brain. beautiful someday afternoon, solange sings almeda & i return to girlhood’s mall: ice-creams at riverwalk, copying recipes from the bookshop & swallowing the bitter of adult cappuccinos, pretending to contain myself.