my apocalypse arrived quietly // and took all my breaths away / with you.
what is it they say about apocalypses?--
that the world would be born anew:
bleeding red suns would be pinned to the sky,
and our hands would perpetually taste like thunder.
wide-eyed horizon. wet soil.
all of our shadows could look like phoenixes,
if only we are willing to be burned.
brows drawn together in consternation,
hands hummingbird-flapping. raging queues
for the bureaucratic evaluation.
blank forms. a pack of pens.
write: the price of your life.
soft mouths open. swallow rain.
teeth-less humans striding like predators.
we can be anything that does not bite.
in the thicket of the forest, a pair of eyes.
Anushka Bidani is a 20 year old poet and essayist from India. She's the editor-in-chief at Headcanon Magazine. You can find her at anushkabidani.com.
Uncovered logs from the distant past and the future beyond.