Sunday, I wake up excited
kori rassa on the stove
cuticles red
from nails freshly cut
Amma digs through my
scalp, picking out lice
crushing it with
her nail
a euphonious crunch
kote pen teer pen jappo jappo
Sunday, I wake up hungover
the seeping light
hurts my head;
hungry for blood,
I dig my pincers into the
scalp, she picks me up—
as I’m crushed under
her nail
I yell out her name
kote pen teer pen jappo jappo


This poem was first published in Gulmohur Quarterly: Issue 01