A Family Clause

With the flock of her desolated hair, I have always loved June Her firm eyes, timely wrinkles frustration loneliness, a deficit childhood, early misfortune of father’s testaments, solitude & a Caucasian humour “My Taco Bell is too fiery!” speaks when mine is not

Let me say it differently

I have always loved tanned lips and accidentally escaped lab rats uncertain of their cause

The alphabets on gravestones filled over the course of time vanished overlooked seldom flowered

I stand there, the stag stuck in words, ‘Ivory’, they say— a stag nibbled ivory

June remains— a still rock withered under mother’s absence, keeping with a blithesome

Ajay Sawant

Where do you find it, June? “a family clause”

Or a resurrection temperament

I say “a family clause” I say “a resurrection temperament” Under her eyes I whisper “a family clause”