3 poems

by Vans Bano

Vans Bano is a poet, visual artist, and follower of flowers currently residing in Chandigarh, India. They like to write about nature, their body, and how their body is natural. More of their work can be found in Watermelanin Mag, Body Without Organs Journal, and @vildflower.

no such thing as a perfect first draft

let me tell you a story. on a warm

june evening you went out

for a walk & could not

take your eyes off the birds. you

looked up to the sky as you

said, what a blessing it must be

 

to be hollow. that night

you stood in front of the mirror

& tried to carve the desire out

of your bones, & every dream

spilled out like an oil stain,

 

which is to say: anything deep

as the ocean will also carry

its weight. let me tell you a

story. a flower is a flower

even as it loses a petal. and

another. even as the womb

of the soil turns into

a grave. & the flower is a flower

even as it expands, honey-slow

& honey-sweet & honey-

 

sharp, which is to say: you

cannot bloom until you take up

space. let me rewrite

the story. on a warm june evening

you went out for a walk & could

not take your eyes off the birds.

you looked up to the sky as you

said, i want more days like these. the poem

is not prayer, it is prophecy.

to consider:

my hair is still wet

from the last time i was

uncomfortable being naked

with myself.

 

sometimes i long for the

sea & sometimes i settle

for the lake instead.

 

the light is running out.

the light is running out.

the light is running

 

                                   but it's

my heart that's feeling the burn,

jeans torn at the knees

from where i tried to fold myself

into a shape visibly

convenient.

 

which is to say, consider:

coming apart at the

seams.

 

my therapist calls me

a thread except i do not

know how to stitch myself

back together.

 

maybe i am the needle.

maybe i am the river

settling for the lake instead of sea.

 

which is to say, consider

a longing that does not

seem to fade away.

untitled

one time i made crystals

of copper sulphate in chem lab and carried them

home in my pocket except

sometimes i break my body

into crystals and carry it home

in my pocket.

 

my dentist told me i have too many teeth.

which is to say sometimes i clench my jaw without knowing. which is to say

sometimes i bite into my skin

and my blood tastes salty.

 

my body is bitter.

 

my body is a meal

kept in the wrong plate, something

you consume with no care for what it

tastes like,

 

something you consume

just to show me how well

you can spit it out.