You say, halve your brain,
keep the cubicles in the left,
valley of flowers in the right,
let there not be a crevasse,
we need those green papers.

Ah, how can I forget the grocer,
people, who hold our roof,
our flesh, still in the lower case?

I’ve built a bridge;
bringing the grass to my work,
dragging the chair sometimes to the dreams.
And you took flight to the mountain tops.

You tell me, times are like living with cannibals;
I wish, like pre-historic times, you could
sometimes let loose the beast into me.

When I slide my hands into yours, I wish
you’d twist it sharp and break me; but
my hands get stamped by your warmth,
I remain glued to you.

The final betrayal awaits us
in your passionate work;
in my creative cooking.

(Published by Up The Staircase Quarterly, USA.) 

I have been very fortunate to have had the opportunity to get to know June Nandy's work. June is an intelligent writer that has an extremely unique perspective. She speaks only with the utmost honesty and precision. She is a must, a fierce emerging force.