Memory is triangular
like frames that melt
in flames we burn
to fight a cold cold winter.
Night brings strange insects
to feed her anxiety
until moths plan a group suicide
inside an ancient table lamp.
A forest burns on its own.
It is not an irony
that a black coal truck
fell over her body
She must have seen it coming
must have felt its weight
like these roads that bear hills
after a landslide
as she slowly died.

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Goirick Brahmachari is a writer based in Dilli. ‘For the Love of Pork’ is his debut collection of poems. His poems and articles have appeared in North East Review, Open Road Review, Nether, TFQM, Coldnoon: Travel Poetics, Raedleaf Poetr, The Hindu The Reading Hour and Economic and Political Weekly among others.


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