Please don’t eat the sun
by Karan Kapoor
I’m here, alone, with you, in a future April…
— Pier Paolo Pasolini
why must the sun wake you up / she would say /
you must wake up the sun / now / every day is morning
where the sun smokes like aftermath of a long night /
Dida / a hook / and all that hangs from her nails
sheens in sunray / loam black / the earth longs
for her / after she is burned we will pour
her in a clay urn / scatter her over Ganga
until no one can separate mist from flesh /
but now in the sun / her shadow a fetal question
no light can answer / she who never laughs / never eats / pisses
in bed / weeps / howls / balls fists / beats her chest /
eyes small bowls of stale water / breath serpentine / legs swollen
marbled / heart a waning gibbous moon / soon
there’ll be no one / to wake up the sun
Karan Kapoor
Karan Kapoor is the Editor-in-Chief of ONLY POEMS. Their poems have appeared in Best New Poets, AGNI, Shenandoah, North American Review, and elsewhere. They’re on the editorial board of Alice James Books.