in snow i was certain you could no longer
smell the curry on my jacket. i relaxed
beside you tilting my chin to sky
the scene romantic as sledding across the arctic
with a pack of wolves, tinned beans near a fire
frozen ketchup and gloved hands. aware of your
hair’s blackness, bundled in a white cotton
headscarf. your pale fingers cuffing my arms
i think you knew i wanted something from you
that our friendship was molting, burned by future
but we were out in snow and it wasn’t time
you showed me a blade of grass, pushing through
stark green. the color of your binder, your flag;
i filled the air with silly words. with knives
until the bell rang.
All rights reserved to Samiah Haque.