I end up at the same place
where I had lost myself.
I call out to me, go looking to find
those bones I had set on fire,
traces of self I had left behind
into the ether as rising smoke.
How do you find old smoke?
How do you know where it travelled?
The kite skips into the sky.

—
Chumki Sharma is a poet from Calcutta, India. She is a 2017 semifinalist of the Vignette Collection Award from the Vine Leaves Press, Melbourne and her collection of poems Shape of Emptiness has been published by them in September 2017.

I watch my body every night,
how it practices leaving,
the bed becomes a boat,
the sheet a sail
and the frame a prow.
I watch my body every night
rehearse its last goodbye,
how the stars lose their sway,
rust weakens the locks on doors
and windows become porous.
I watch how the cuckoo
escapes the clock every hour.

—
Chumki Sharma is a poet from Calcutta, India. She is a 2017 semi finalist of the Vine Leaves Vignette Collection Award and is the author of Shape of Emptiness published by the Vine Leaves Press, Melbourne.