Poetry Month Special
Between stretched columns of pain
elongated into skyscraper proportions
creep narrow shadows
of ghost lanes; empty in the late afternoons
the sun having vaulted over the city to
join the warm beach bodies
It is never night enough
but I want to lie and weep
be an underpass joining their dark pavements
invisibly
without having to repent for such a luxury
I can feel the cold glass shatter in an orgasmic rain
the thick warmth coating the shards
and then I breathe
Not an enduring cure for grief
erupting from a fear of loss
not related to persons or a place
but a healing service for the forgotten bits in me
becoming less of what they wanted to be
and more of fixtures in a still picture
with each pirouette of the wheel
Really touching!
Thank you Suddhasattwa Bandyopadhyay