lingua franca

animation by Sarah Jun, writing Vaidehi Bhardwaj

in those supple days, the leaves fell without pause. 

the air carried in it the

taste of fever.

all the heat of the world was

contained in a clay teapot,

then a chipped ceramic cup,

then in the pit of my stomach.

the passage of flame from vessel to vessel became

a ritual, a miracle—

what a wondrous thing.

to speak a new

thermodynamic language,

what a wondrous thing! 

to feel the days settle in my belly, 

feel the fever turn my insides warm,

watch the leaves spiral and kick along the red bricks.

in those supple days, the earth itself seemed to pulse—

womb of the world exhaling,

inhaling.