turns to look
up at you,
his gaze babyish, ageless,
saccadic.

One grey leg saturnine and fixèd
like Christ’s
dangling from the cross.

It is but also the centre of the room that roves
not only the eye.

Is that a wink – a frown –
a look of fussy concern –

It is but also memory that shifts
not only the light.

These fruits that furnish of their flesh,
their skins robust and revelling.

It is the light obfuscating the room.
It is memory abstracting from the eye.

…

Dion D’Souza is a poet and short fiction writer. He is the author of Three Doors (Poetrywala, 2016), a collection of poems, and the poetry chapbook Mirrors Lie, and Sometimes Mothers (Yavanika Press, 2021). He lives in Bombay, India.