THE GLASS KIDS OF FIROZABAD
I once told a woman
wearing shiny glass bangles
that she looked scary. She turned
at me curious and offended.
She was eager to know and I, eager to show—
On one hand, I traced a sad boy’s face
on the other, I unearthed a girl,
almost dead, with one eye pushed deep
into the socket and stitched.
Terrified, she looked at her husband
She took off all those bangles
And as they broke, they released
the spirits of glass kids
One bangle wheeled across
the road at the feet of an old lady
throwing balls for her pup to catch.