It’s always been like this: your hand on the back of my neck / a symphony of gold singeing my skin, marble floor too thin to carry our weight / you are all elegy, skin glistening like slick pavement, and I am still trying to cut you open when / you spit cherry, it’s always been like this: palace too empty, pillars too hollow, walls trying to collapse inward / dirty footprints on a silver platter, you singing bhajans while I learn to play the sitar / it’s always been like this: mango tree bowing at our feet, masala chai sliding down our throats / humidity sinking into the pages of my book, you’re rubbing haldi into my cheeks and it’s our wedding day again – henna stained fingers worrying at my sari, you kissing me at the back of the mandir / it’s always been like this: fear crumbling like soan papdi, superstition tainting our daydreams, nakshatra written on your palm and I keep looking back –