Shome Dasgupta "Her Garden Her Earth"
There was a dying garden under a rising sun and the way the light came through I closed my eyes and wondered about darkness shone upon by beams of such magnitude, that I became confused about the difference between love and loneliness—a twilight it was, where the edge of the world thinned into ghosts floating around in my mind. I still saw her. Her knees covered and caked with soil, knuckles scraped and torn, and next to her, a chipped spade as if missing a tooth. She patted earth with weathered palms, her earth, where she only knew how to exist, the only realm she wanted to be, among the dirt and minerals—clay was her only companion.
And so her hair covered her face—she whispered words I would hear at night, when we were alone. Those words were never meant for me and I knew that. My love would never weaken but only strengthen when she was gone. When she left, the sky was cut in half, down through the center of earth, and that was where she was taken away. Not from me but to her earth—her wishes became true, not a cry or a grunt or a shout of pain but a smile as she traveled to her destination under the plates where I stood, heaved breath I recollected the fury of leaves and roots, her gravestone of flushed vines I tried to grasp with memories of when she was here.
Shome Dasgupta lives in Lafayette, LA. He is the author of i am here And You Are Gone (Winner Of The 2010 OW Press Contest), The Seagull And The Urn (HarperCollins India), Anklet And Other Stories (Golden Antelope Press), Pretend I Am Someone You Like (Livingston Press), and Mute (Tolsun Books), and the forthcoming books, Spectacles (Word West), and Iron Oxide (Assure Press) which is a poetry collection. He can be found at www.shomedome.com and @laughingyeti.