[stanza][lineate]Bless the last breath left[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]In the perfume vial.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]Bless the dialect[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]In which the ficus confessed, stripping herself of leaves.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]Bless whatever the faucet believed[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]To sing as though there were no end[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]To singing, before turning off. Bless the years[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]Washed down the drain.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]Bless teacups, bless beds, bless the locked birdcage,[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]Bless words that stained linoleum,[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]And the parade of plate and tine and blade—[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]They flashed. They cut and fed.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]The roof is gone, the windows, half the frame. Bless[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]The table’s metal legs and the upright remains[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]Of what I am: two scorched posts[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]Of happiness, a lintel beam of shame.[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]I have no tears, no salt, no rage—[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]Bless the ruined house, bless our temple,[/lineate]
[stanza][lineate]All its secret chambers forever[/lineate]
[lineate indent=3]Exposed to heaven.[/lineate]
Kirun Kapur grew up in Hawaii and has since lived and worked in North America and South Asia. Her first job as a writer was for India’s groundbreaking feminist magazine Manushi and from there her travels took her through Asia, the Middle East and North Africa. In 2015, NBCNews named her on their list of Asian-American Poets to Watch. Kirun is the Poetry Editor for The Drum Literary Magazine.