“If buildings were paper, I might / feel their drift”
This couplet opens Imtiaz Dharker's poem "Tissue," which is a staple in many secondary-school literature classes. The speaker reflects on the fragility and temporary nature of human creations—both tangible (like buildings, maps, and receipts) and intangible (such as identity, power, and borders). By envisioning structures made of paper, Dharker flips the usual perception of materials: paper, often viewed as weak and short-lived, becomes a way to see solid, imposing buildings as equally fleeting. The term "drift" is key here—it conveys both physical movement (like paper caught in the wind) and a loosening of fixed meanings or authority. These lines introduce the poem's main argument: the things humanity relies on to assert permanence and control (like buildings, records, and borders) are as thin and fragile as tissue paper. The use of "might" also reflects a sense of humility and openness, encouraging readers to rethink the world instead of accepting it as unchangeable. This prepares the ground for Dharker's wider exploration of light, transparency, and the potential for a more fluid, less rigidly defined human experience.
Poetic speaker (Imtiaz Dharker) · Stanza 1 · Opening stanza of the poem