The only heirlooms I can bequeath to you
are the diadems of mitochondria, my love:
grandmothers, mothers, great grandmothers,
some whose names we know,
some who are nameless,
each thriving within us,
in their miniature chambers.
The curve of your cheek, the hazel sheen
in your hair, why your tongue
yearns for sugar, if your pupils gravitate
towards ink blue or desert dun,
if you can inhabit
the houses of grief and joy,
if you can plant a garden
in the most hostile
earth, knowing the earth is
not barren, it simply needs
compassion and tenderness.
In you, me, your grandmother,
all the grandmothers before you,
we are Russian dolls,
emerging from one another.
Seen close, the mitochondria looks
like a city which never sleeps,
whose dreams are its reality.
We are each other’s dreams,
we dreamed ourselves into being
and your dreams are utterly your own.
Priyanka Sacheti
Priyanka Sacheti is an independent writer, poet, and photographer based in Bangalore, India. Raised in Oman, she previously lived in the United Kingdom and United States. She’s extensively reported about art and culture for many international digital and print publications including Guardian, Art News, and Hyperallergic. Her literary work and art has appeared in journals such as Barren, The Sunlight Press, Dust Mag Poetry, Common, Parentheses Art, The Lunchticket, and The Selkie as well as various poetry and fiction anthologies. Her fiction and art have been nominated for #BestofNet.