The garden path and all that jazz Anisha SenGupta Yanger Often enough,the ziplock splitsthe bones crash,and I can feel the days presence all too well,the particles of my cerebellum,caught unawaresjust like the watchtowerits not able to keep trackof the salubriousneeds and has put togethera search of sorts, futile in time,a calibrated onset of old and new, a used photo, a preset to an onset, a zapa heart lurch,a momentary confusion,another parable, exiting the marrowso entrenched in the dailies but flying high, the linesbeen drawn,3 times over at least andon the invisible one, the tropics heaving over my shoulder, where not a drop of water was to be foundBut Ares sits, amused,I move quietintently,winding my way around atonementthe belly of the beastfed, distracted for a moment,and the equal measure of pain and passionsteady, at least for a, moment.

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Listen to me read Read the instructions carefully, so many said. by Anisha on Instagram @rembrandts.cure