i take a spoon of spicy stew, mixing it with plain white rice,
& eat it slowly. i close my eyes
as if savouring this familiar taste:
hot, red sauce, pain – self-induced.

my room, which is just a small cell not enough
to contain the writhing of shadows,
grows smaller. her delicate hands massaging my nape. look,

i’m here. i close my eyes & open them.
the walls are far apart now. & as they pull farther away,
my skin stretches itself like an elastic band. my upper abdomen
prepares the fire for the ritual, & if i’m alive till then
i’d uncork the bottle of regrets before it explodes. otherwise,

i’m here. i close my eyes.
somehow wishing to open them to emptiness. poke some needles in
gently, so i don’t feel the aches. make the stew less spicy
because i can’t handle red hotness like some.
i open my eyes & repeat reality till it’s sore
between my thighs.