I am hung in the earth’s wardrobe

woven with the sinews of a million dying brown-skinned babies

their eyes sequins glistening in every twist of sunlight

as I flick my white Indian silk lengths

on my belt mosaic mirrors become rivers pouring

opulent jewels from the land into the palm of your hand

every last drop of earth’s moisture drained for your appearance

try me on for size                       it’s not one size fits all

I am too small for Western bodies bloated

by supersized dreams too large

for the skeletal frames of malnourished children in Lucknow

I am a tight fit stolen from the needle-scratched fingers

of Brazilian sweatshop workers

I drape from the hips in a melting pot of style

I am Armani haute couture

I am ready made for Wal Mart

a tropical treasure

your passport to exotic shores

Maya Chowdhry