\u201cI don\u2019t vacuum,\u201d my sister declared.
\n\u201cSaints live under my bed.\u201d<\/p>\n
No such excuse for me. Beneath my mattress
\nmy own dead skin, flakes shed during dreams<\/p>\n
that scatter snatches of memory: forest stumbles
\nand scratched limbs, a foghorn\u2019s mourn,<\/p>\n
windowless rooms, no corners, no doors, a sand-swept
\ntent in the Sahara I\u2019m to camel across tomorrow<\/p>\n
but neither dreams nor dust care.
\nOne night, a woman in a saffron sari<\/p>\n
perfumed my forehead, said,
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t have to come to India now.\u201d<\/p>\n
My ashes will never grace the Ganges,
\nnor my body whirl toward Mecca.<\/p>\n
What remains when my spirit leaves will compost
\nlike egg shells and onion skins into soil<\/p>\n
and if wind whisks some of that dirt
\nthrough an open window<\/p>\n
and it ends up household dust,
\nmay I rest with the saints undisturbed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cI don\u2019t vacuum,\u201d my sister declared. \u201cSaints live under my bed.\u201d No such excuse for me. Beneath my mattress my own dead skin, flakes shed during dreams that scatter snatches of memory: forest stumbles and scratched limbs, a foghorn\u2019s mourn, windowless rooms, no corners, no doors, a sand-swept tent in the Sahara I\u2019m to camel…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":94,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"issue":[8],"coauthors":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n