Small Talk
The anaesthetist is smiling.
I can see plainly
he has yet to wear his mask.
You are going to become a mother,
he reminds me,
without any pain.
Like Everything That Comes From Longing
(for my daughter)
Like everything that comes from longing,
she fills an emptiness
I’ve long denied.
First, she convinces me to throw up.
I suppose she wants to purge
me of smut and scum.
She walks in barefoot.
She is sung to.
She is offered milk and fruit.
(often, hummus and lemon tart)
She is disciple.
She is divinity.
I’ve been told my body is a temple.
I suspect it must be true.
Cheryl Rebello
Cheryl Rebello (she/her) is a writer and poet from India. She found writing one day and has been all the better for it. Her work has been published in The Hooghly Review, Kitaab, Tiny Wren Lit, Hot Pot Magazine and Celestite Poetry. She occasionally posts at @cheruwritesalot.
