by Sibani Sen

Under the vernacular sun
I tally cane and gold
I, raconteur of the tannic hills.

Mandarins in castled groves
Cultivate calendula blooms
Upon my back.

Red sill and coal
Suss out my thousand eyes
I lash time

Shiver in my
Slurry skin, pitched, flailed
I prepare the vestal

I bring it level to the light
Brim, flow
One immaculate, everlasting life.

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Sibani Sen teaches creative writing and South Asian history. She has a PhD in Indology from Harvard University and an MFA from Boston University. Her poetry has appeared in a variety of publications including Off the Coast, Nixes Mate Review, Rogue Agent, and Main Street Rag. She has done collaborative projects with the History Design Studio at the Harvard Hutchins Center, the Concord Museum, the Beacon Street Arts Studios in Somerville, the former Green Street Studio in Cambridge, and the pop-up New Rasa Initiative group at the Public Theater in NYC. Her current projects based on migration and feminism include forthcoming poetry and a monograph on the Indian pre-modern poet Bharatchandra.