(for Bhadra, the Chennai dog)
by Maryam Ala Amjadi
Look!
The white hands of the clock are crooked from stealing time
and the counting eyes of the keyholes can now fully mouth
the empty echo of slogans back to the windowed will of the walls
who could not believe the mind of their own ears
that in the violent tongue of human beings
“a dog’s life” merely means
unearthing the wretched bones of the bloody questions
that were long sown and thrown:
Just who owns the human body? Who do the humans own?
Objects of affection and subjects of warmth
Living ‘things’ that break and breathe
In this Love-forsaken world, they are rare
those who know the difference between
“belonging to”
and ‘belonging with’
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