Homeland
There is a street in Karachi
that looks like my living room.
When my eyes are half-closed
my mother plays the street vendor,
my mother plays the street vendor,
cutting vegetables, with one thumb
on the handle and a finger on the
on the handle and a finger on the
curved blade of the knife.
She cuts both ways—
She cuts both ways—
how she can mean both love
& freedom with the same hand.
& freedom with the same hand.
