There is no space small enough
To contain her in this glass house.
So she crafts a chrysalis out of
Her own skin to fold into: an embryo
Crouched on the velvety floor.
But it does not make her less
Transparent. Like the rose
Shedding its drying petals, she too
Will ripen. Layers of her snake-skin will peel
Open to burst into this dazzling creature
With no protection at all
And no place to hide.
~ Saleem Peeradina
Saleem Peeradina is the author of â€˜First Offenceâ€™ (Newground, 1980), â€˜Group Portraitâ€™ (OUP, 1992), â€˜Meditations on Desireâ€™ (Ridgeway Press, 2003), and â€˜Slow Danceâ€™ (Ridgeway Press, 2010). He edited â€˜Contemporary Indian Poetry in Englishâ€™ (Macmillan, 1972), one of the earliest and most widely used texts in courses on South Asian literature. â€˜The Ocean in My Yardâ€™, a prose memoir of growing up in Bombay, was published by Penguin Books, in 2005. His latest collection is â€˜Final Cutâ€™ (Valley Press, 2016).