Garden

I live here. When you come to visit, you bring the garden with you and the snake is an albino — orange slithering over your untouched skin. We sit sipping cider and talking about sex toys. What we are denied we crave. I see the brown eye-slits peaking from between the wefts of your peach soft woollen sweats. The body of a happy hippo on the table between us, and its head in my mouth.

Written by Aswin Vijayan

Aswin is a poet from Kerala, India. He has an MA in Poetry from the Seamus Heaney Centre, Queen’s University Belfast. His poems have been published or are forthcoming in The Bombay Literary Magazine, Verse of SilenceThe Tangerine, and Coldnoon among others. He is also the Managing Editor at The Quarantine Train.