Anuja Ghimire is from Kathmandu, Nepal. She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and two little children and writes poetry. A Pushcart nominee, she has been published in several literary journals like Red River Review, Shot Glass Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Cyclamens and Swords. 
More poems can be found in her blog saffronandsymmetry.tumblr.com

                         The Fissure
 
​
There once lived two sisters
Who loved each other a lot
Prema was under Leela’s wings
Leela was her world
One stormy night,
Leela asked Prema to lock the door
“I did,” said Prema, without checking once more
That's when something unseen had crept in
That's how the wall had cracked
Prema saw the fissure with the light of the dawn
Right where Leela’s shadow began
Every night, Prema fixed the wall
It never seemed whole
Leela saw through the paint, the fingerprints and all
As if the storm brewed again to watch the shadow crawl





                 Bohemian Inebriation 

Waxwings are crashing on the glass

Headlong

The fermented stench

Is never a warning enough

They pluck and pluck

Pink stain spreads

On the stuffed beaks and the fluffy cheeks

Like Rorschach’s inkblot

Even forests have open secrets

Songbirds switch lanes sans signals

They don’t sing when they’re high

Sometimes, birds forget how to fly

Waxwings are crashing on the trees

Sideways

Ethanol crosses the border

The flattened heads

Are never sobering enough

They suck and suck

Red stains spread

Like shadows in the alley

The berries in their beaks

Are stuck

Anuja Ghimire is from Kathmandu, Nepal. She lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband and two little children and writes poetry. A Pushcart nominee, she has been published in several literary journals like Red River Review, Shot Glass Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Cyclamens and Swords. 
More poems can be found in her blog saffronandsymmetry.tumblr.com

Forgiveness Ritual by Anuja Ghimire

​
Come
as an earthen pot
brimming with pure milk
Ready
to quench the stone bull
who has squatted for centuries
Bring
a garland of daffodils
spun with your own hands
Early
the sparrows have left the branches
and dropped the leaves
Listen
the vermillion should be redder
than the crevices of my heart
Remember
the saffron should be ready
to cover the holes in the air
Know
the forehead is cleansed for worship
with dewdrops and uncreased of the past
Leave
the hide of your sandals;
they will only crush
the petals
Let
your uncurled toes earn
the steps to the statue
Hand over
the basket with the offering
to the ground
Give
only a moment
of your presence in truth
Leave
with forgiveness
in your open palms
or
Stay 

Palimpsest by Anuja Ghimire 

​
These footsteps do not leave traces
The trails wash away with tears 
Falling from the eyes huddled over the soil
On which I first crawled and softly trode

Earth, you aren’t ours in equal parts
These eyes are somehow less on our faces
How are shrinking beings witnesses?

The flash only blinds waterfalls from a higher mountain
Stars, why don’t you migrate over greater sorrows?
The light you bend on our wounds does not reflect

Oh, clouds, your shadows are as dark as the furnace
Forever, a power outage and a whimpering, dying rage
Lower truths of these scabs that become the palimpsest

Sun, why give us night and day?
As if we will forget, this fate will change, and we will have a say