Valentines: Two poems by Joanna George

Birthday

Two weeks back I was planning for your birthday
A bottle of whiskey or old monk, fruit custard with milkmaid or 
a sandwich with grapes in between, few boiled eggs and pulses too; 
knowing your likeness for food sweetened and me.
But see, the lockdown keeps extending like a tensionless string,
and I feel, you and I would spend your birthday night 
on each other’s screens framed and locked under like these new restrictions
within our state borders, you on your rooftop with a glass of milk
and me inside my room, trying to curb the wind ruffling your hair there.
Us trapped on screens, happy to be together in this times of separation.
I would read you a letter I will write for you, and I know you would complain 
about the buffering network, but we will try and understand 
the half chucked words we post through this ether of zeroes and ones,
while patiently waiting with the world to recover, as I whisper, “Janmadin Mubarak”.
(Happy Birthday)
And then, when it’s all over, I will fly back to your arms to begin again, a fresh story 
of belonging to your heartbeat celebrating the serendipity of your birth. 

About Joanna George

Joanna George (she/her) currently writes from Pondicherry. Her poems appear or are forthcoming in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, West Trestle Review, Lumiere Review, Literary Shanghai, Mookychick and others.