“crisp, orange sky / waxy dawn / rising behind clouds …” Courtesy of gigglebox1091;)/flickr.
quick recoil as heatwave
tries to coax me
my bedroom, a sun-sluiced
temple
outside, maulvis
and bootleggers
cross paths
crisp, orange sky
waxy dawn
rising behind clouds
sister syncs the color
palette to her mind
charcoal glass gold
karachi, sometimes
a gaping wound,
still sweet to the touch
insatiable city,
seeking forgiveness from its people
when the underpass
collapses in a dream.