And fire
I still think of home when I think of you
Though the walls have fared better days
And the light crashes every now and again
In the stream of the shadows' eyes
Where I swear I must have seen a thousand times
Someone's face, someone's sky,
Not my own, but still very much my own.
I let you in the other day
You faded in just the minute you came
I saw your wings beat against my wind
And saw you till I was awake again.
I saw you again when the next night came
You came as words, and you spoke like a stream,
I sat about your legs when you were fire,
We spoke as one until the next night came.
I still think of home when I think of you
Though the walls have fared better days
And the river cuts open my face
In the gleam you let in on banks and shores
Where I can dip inside from time to time
Someone's trees, someone's skies,
Not my own, but still very much my own.
Mehrul Bari S. Chowdhury (he/him) is a writer, poet, and artist from Dhaka, Bangladesh. He has recently completed his BA in English Literature, and has been published in Cathartic Literary Magazine, Six Season Review, Twist & Twain, among others.If none of this sounds terribly impressive, he can also distinguish butter from I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.