Brick Lane Babe

You would have been so beautiful,
my baby, with skin of Kashmiri cream,
and eyes of glaring green intensity
My exotic Indian babe

I knew that moment,
he let the tug of love
loose within me
that this was a doomed affair,
You, a tiny bundle of atoms
would not uncurl a fist at the sun.


Your father was a man of three continents
Broken apart by their past.
under an arduous weight of
existence
he could neither choose you or me
so you were not born
i walked away
from the torrid heat of love

I let your grip on my womb be torn asunder
broke the union
of mother and child
felt you slip
Into the recesses of my mind

Only these scents of spice
As i walk down brick lane
can call your memory back
In my ghostly motherhood
i hold your fat little hands
and let your grandmother oil your head
and give Allah praise for your birth

Only Asia's unwavering heat,
this aridness,
can awaken these dreams of you......