Does anyone have anything for the poem 'Tissue' by Imtiaz Dharker. To be honest, I'm finding it difficult to even understand the meaning of the poem. If anyone could shed some light on it that;d be great. Tissue Paper that lets the light shine through, this is what could alter things. Paper thinned by age or touching, the kind you find in well-used books, the back of the Koran, where a hand has written in the names and histories, who was born to whom, the height and weight, who died where and how, on which sepia date, pages smoothed and stroked and turned transparent with attention. If buildings were paper, I might feel their drift, see how easily they fall away on a sigh, a shift in the direction of the wind.