Poem – Untitled

By Kaysang

we have forgotten
how to hold your hand,
sisters of our snowland.

our hearts beat
slower
each hour
to the beat of that
white crane’s wings —
he too is tired, it seems.
so long have we spoken
this same,
singular
tongue,
your diverse music
has started sounding
alien
to our ears.

who are we to say
what your heart aches for?

our bodies have soaked in
too much of
this summer-land sun —
i’m scared now,
i’m scared
i’m forgetting
the arid wind
of my father’s Ngari
and the wooded joys
of my mother’s Kyidong.
the blood in my veins
has flowed
so far already
too far
from Kailash —
it no longer sings
my ancestor’s songs.

my feet move
backwards now,
i’m searching for you,
sisters killed
by red bullets,
sisters gone missing
on red winter nights,
sisters huddled
deep in red prisons
we don’t know of.

teach me again
how to hold your hands,
teach me again
how to sing your songs.

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