Ever since the time I was introduced to this world
from my mother’s womb, I longed for her to give me
her valuable old jade jewellery, which she kept in her deepest cabinet.
Where little girls grow into their mother’s face,
little boys face their father’s rage.
It’s a brutal distress to live in a world,
where people stand by to scoop you from within
like a cantaloupe clean, chase you like a creature
in your sleep.
O dear, Nightingale
sing so sweetly at night.
let them know, tell the world,
that my reality simply is a
political proclamation.
Where my heart longs
with the desire of having
a lover, a baby, or a family,
life ahead is simply desolate.
I am extremely tired. I am suffocating.
Where the chains of 377
have as of late been demolished.
It’s not the ideal opportunity for
celebration on the grounds that
consistently is a fight.
Our battles have just begun—
A happy life is lifetimes ahead.
To my almost lover,
you are a sad dream.
Because, almost lovers always do.
Let them know. Tell the world.
Envelop me in silk, trickle me in gold.
Chime in with me this eminent blues.
Enclose my heart by the trouble of
my mother’s old jade jewellery.
Tonight,
I will sparkle splendid at midnight,
lay my head on a bed
of roses in the park—
To rest for eternity.
Aditya Tiwari is an Indian poet, author and LGBT rights activist. His first collection of poems, April is Lush, was published independently in 2019. You can keep up with him @aprilislush on Instagram and Twitter.
Featured image credit: Pein3/Flickr
