my dear friend calls it serendipitous
every time she runs into someone she knows
on the street. i know we all live on this campus,
she says, but still. there are insects tucked away
in our freezer, with their wings splayed apart,
and they might be dead, or caught
in a long sleep. sometimes i wonder
what could make a body click awake,
decide to work again.
maybe we’re all teachers of something,
then. me, with my phone camera
open to the sky, my blue gold journal
and that hunger to capture something
just as it is, or right before it disappears.
the ladybug, with its blood red
and spotted body, crawling up against
the white pavement just as soon as
we ask for a little luck. my friend,
who, as ada limón once said,
will never get over making everything
such a big deal. perhaps, even, the frozen cicada,
with its legs locked in place, its netted wings
fanned open, dreaming between
this life and the next.
TEJASWINI SUDHAKAR is a senior at the University of Kentucky studying Psychology and Gender & Women's Studies. They were born in Chennai, India, but are currently residing in Lexington, Kentucky. Currently, they are drafting a documentary poetry collection surrounding the experiences of first generation immigrant and refugee women in Kentucky. They hope to pursue an MFA in poetry and keep producing social-justice oriented work.
@tejaaaaas on Twitter