On tears and taxidermy

i.

the first time i saw a tiger

was in someone's house

all tall and lifeless; yet a tiger --

my small self dissolving in its shadow.

i drew from its still eyes -

a scary thought and nothing else.

i heard someone say

the tiger was dead but its frame

was kept as it once was.

i only remember my bird-like heart,

my hand holding on to my father's big grip

and how i wanted to hide from something dead which was supposed to look alive.

- 11 June, 2021

Rifat Islam Esha is a poet. For more updates on her work, you can follow her on Instagram: @rifatiesha.