Kesar doodh is my love-language <3

Abstract

Kesar doodh1 is my love-language <3 Pinka Popsickle (bio) Keywords Pinka Popsickle, poetry, saffron Stranger, your hands hangingloose at your sides, don't // become you; they—of dark wood and dirty nails, belong on— pale gold thighs; lost in crippled fingers; and my Maggi (curled like curled fingers) in between pale gold thighs/ sighs/ size sighs/s∧Iz/ verb emit a long, deep audible breathsize/s∧Iz/ noun estimate or measure of a body's expansesays/seIz/ verb utter words Stranger, your lip hangingloose 'round your joint, doesn't // become you; it—of bruised plum tandoor meat, belongs to— mountain(s)peak moans, lost in craggy contours; and silver tongue (slurs like slurred speech) in between mountain-speak/ mountain's peaks/ mouth-in-speech [End Page 748] speak/spi:k/ verb say something to expresspeak/pi:k/ noun climax in Freytag's pyramidspeech/spi:t∫/ noun expression, usually censored in words Stranger, your dick hangingloose in your pants won't // become you; it—of piss-stench failed love belongs on— graffitti walls; lost in translations, slogans, nations; and narrations (twisted like twisted spines) in between pure gold lies/ guise/ gai-sguise/g∧Iz/ noun external form/ manner of presentation that conceals somethingguy/g∧I/ verb ridiculegai/g∧I/ गाय noun; transl. sacred cow Pinka Popsickle pinka popsickle/priyanka d`souza is an "artistorian" from Mumbai, India. In her academic and artistic practice, she works with crip time and protest in ecological reimaginings, Mughal miniatures, early modern natural history, and the concept of the ajai'b (wondrous/strange), particularly in imaginings of borderlands of nation-empires and as applied to anomalous/disabled bodies. She is a poet fellow at Zoeglossia '22, and has been an artist-in-residence at Delfina Foundation, London '21, and a Dara Shikoh Fellow '16. NOTE 1. transl. Saffron milk. Copyright © 2022 The Massachusetts Review, Inc.