My left hand is the holder. Mascara tube, apple on the cutting board, paper while my right hand writes. A buttress. Not strong but not weak, either. My left hand holds a palmful of peace. The velvet pouch of small rocks smoothed by ancient waters, rubbed between thumb and forefinger. Aaaaah. Or the bottle of pills to unclench my gut. Lines overlay veins overlay muscles overlay bones. A palmful of bones, held out in supplication, in valor, in terrible loneliness, delicate and powerful as the pale wing of a dove seeking a place to finally rest.
THIRD PERSON BIO: Kalpita Pathak is an autistic poet, novelist, and advocate with a passion for research and sensory-rich details. Her work tends to explore the perseverance of hope in a sometimes despairing world, with a little dark humor and magic added to the mix. She received the James Michener Fellowship for her MFA in creative writing and has taught at both the college level and in school programs for kids from three to eighteen. She has recently been published in Mediterranean Poetry.
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com More of his personal work can also be viewed at https://poetrylifeandtimes.com video & audio poems, translations etc.,