On tears and taxidermy
i.
the first time i saw a tiger
was in someone's house
all tall and lifeless; yet a tiger --
my small self dissolving in its shadow.
i drew from its still eyes -
a scary thought and nothing else.
i heard someone say
the tiger was dead but its frame
was kept as it once was.
i only remember my bird-like heart,
my hand holding on to my father's big grip
and how i wanted to hide from something dead which was supposed to look alive.
- 11 June, 2021
Rifat Islam Esha is a poet. For more updates on her work, you can follow her on Instagram: @rifatiesha.
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