TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY ANTONIO D’ALFONSO

If eyes have not
taken you away
and I can still remove your voice
from the rumble
that darkens your face
I’ll look within myself
and find your words
that’ll lead me back to memory

I hang my soul
on the clothesline by the window
the morning
is dry blue
as it flows from your fingers
after a night of fog
and watermarked by birch trees

I feel
earthly and human
as you leave and return
to my body
your fingers running up
my spine mapping out
continents and oceans
I trust
this wavering of images
that gingerly slide over my worries

I carry within
this memory of your black sexuality
blackness overcoming me
a sun a room
my non-being
and
my splitting into two
thinking of you
dissolving in your orgasm
and calmness in your
eyes removing themselves from my head

Also, read an Odia fiction about the nagging problem of gender inequality in India, written by Dr. Gourahari Das , translated to English by Snehaprava Das, and published in The Antonym 

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