"The Swallow," a song of endurance & freedom

Can you see the secret swallowed deep?

Photograph by Reetaish Kumawat

Dear hopeful reader,

I’ve been writing since I was nine. I started with songs. And I performed them to my family and family friends. A few times I hijacked a class, but my beloved grade teacher didn’t mind—encouraged it.

One time in French class I sung a poem inspired by and dedicated to my belated grandfather, then read my translation of it. I remember I took off my shoes so I could freely move and gesticulate. That happened in high school. I also auditioned that poem for a high school show. The only reason they rejected me is because it was an a cappella performance. They couldn’t imagine music without music.

That may be why my singing “career” never took off. (And probably mostly because I’m shy and afraid to forget my own words.) All my songs are poetic and experimental. They don’t fit neatly into any musical genre box. Just as well. Maybe they paint pictures with just my voicebox alone.

Today I’m sharing one of my latest songs, “The Swallow.” It’s a dark song of individual and collective trauma. But there is still hope and determination to one day be free. I left an audio file of it for you to listen.

Also read: “Game of Horror,” a poem inspired by the acclaimed survival horror experience Song of Horror

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The Swallow

There is a haunting
between our thighs
shut tight-
lipped, quivering.

There is a whispering
from ear to ear to
ear, here, can you hear,
can you hear me?

Can you see me?
Can you see the secret
swallowed deep and deeper
still, swallowing

deeper, still swallowing
deeper, swallowing
deeper and deeper
again.

Someday I will become
a swallow, set free
and fly away.

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I still sing today. Mostly to myself, in the shower. And to neighbors, if they hear me.

Do you have a secret talent you want to whisper to me?

Yours hopefully,

Nadia

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