my beginning sounds like uh (not a: or æ) close to the fish crow’s call echoing in the empty marsh pit
uh just the way I say it as you hold my eye and ask me my name
sound of a fogging breath in the morning snow synaptic void between garbled thoughts
on how to kiss-feed an unscripted syllable I once made a list of words (uh-tempted) like a great surrealist (uh-bsurdist)
resonances (uh-mendments) that emulate me (uh-ssimilate) but where I come from (uh-version) a name is just (uh-pology)
and it sounds something like the next time you see my face try to recall the beginning tongue doesn’t quite stick
to the soft palette so you make it new hold my eye like a beam
I answer.
Akshi Chadhais a writer and literary editor from India. She is currently pursuing an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Toronto. Her work has been published in Canthius, The Lumiere Review, Parentheses Journal, The Roadrunner Review, Watch Your Head, Occasus, and elsewhere.