"Research in Bee Stings" by Prachi Valechha
Letter of Regret by Aakriti Karun
I’ll admit I’ve made
quite a cliche out of
you. Rewinded us again
& again. Like those cartoon
cats that clamber
over clifftops to fall flat into
fatless outlines. Then fatten
up again to zip back
to the start. Do you remember
those times? We’d watch
& watch with the cruel obsession
of children. Laugh
until there was nothing left.
Just the blank
screen reflecting our images
back onto us. I know I’ve written
this letter too many times
for it to be true. Thought of you
too often. Picked apart too much. I make
no apologies for it. I imagine
whatever affection
we held inside us
has oozed out now.
Warm and thick and heavy
on our fingers. Let us hold
no pretences about this.
I’ve grown and you’ve grown.
We were sisters once,
or as close as we could get
to that. Two girls who hurled
their clumsy bodies at each other,
clawing at skin, drawing
blood. I remember we were
fighting over a blanket to keep
warm, though I can’t be
sure. In the cartoons,
the cats never knew
they were falling until they were
falling. They’d look straight ahead
and run deep into the gaping fake
blue skies. There was a second
there. When they’d realise
there was no ground beneath
them. My memories have proven
as false as my body. Our bodies
false as anything else here. Look
at us. How we’ve moved on
the way the children do.
With a forgetfulness.
quite a cliche out of
you. Rewinded us again
& again. Like those cartoon
cats that clamber
over clifftops to fall flat into
fatless outlines. Then fatten
up again to zip back
to the start. Do you remember
those times? We’d watch
& watch with the cruel obsession
of children. Laugh
until there was nothing left.
Just the blank
screen reflecting our images
back onto us. I know I’ve written
this letter too many times
for it to be true. Thought of you
too often. Picked apart too much. I make
no apologies for it. I imagine
whatever affection
we held inside us
has oozed out now.
Warm and thick and heavy
on our fingers. Let us hold
no pretences about this.
I’ve grown and you’ve grown.
We were sisters once,
or as close as we could get
to that. Two girls who hurled
their clumsy bodies at each other,
clawing at skin, drawing
blood. I remember we were
fighting over a blanket to keep
warm, though I can’t be
sure. In the cartoons,
the cats never knew
they were falling until they were
falling. They’d look straight ahead
and run deep into the gaping fake
blue skies. There was a second
there. When they’d realise
there was no ground beneath
them. My memories have proven
as false as my body. Our bodies
false as anything else here. Look
at us. How we’ve moved on
the way the children do.
With a forgetfulness.
Aakriti Karun is a writer based in India. A Dorothy West Scholar, she has been recognised by the Adroit Prizes for Prose. Her work is forthcoming in Cobalt Review, Ruminate, GHLL, Salmon Creek Journal and elsewhere.
Prachi Valechha is a freelance cartoonist and animator from India. Valechha loves to make Toons and Toons for Tunes.
You can find more of their work at: instagram.com/rainbowteeth
You can find more of their work at: instagram.com/rainbowteeth
