Image only for representational purpose. Image Credit: pixabay.com

WHEN RAIN CAME HOME
 
Rustles swept silent
under flat brown leaves
pinned by monsoon.
 
Mynahs pecked
on the ground
dead bodies of once alive insects.
 
One one pellet on the rope
met and fell
like lovers.
 
A creak
from the bamboo bush
reminded me of grandma’s knee.
 
The letter on the table
took the direction of wind
and said goodbye.
 
The bogori tree shed
stomach curling odour,
in-between umbrellas walked.
 
I carried home
feet colder than rain
(most importantly
your absence).
 
 
IN MEMORY OF THE LADY I NEVER MET
 
I saw her before
 
pressing her breasts
against the cold railing
near the bus stop.
 
The next time
she had a heavy shopping bag
reddening her wrist
flapping against her thighs.
 
Few days later
her toes scrubbed
the legs of her table
at a restaurant
 
when she tasted
her wine coloured lipstick
overlapping the smell of ash
outlined.
 
I saw her in my mind
quickly hanging her cloths outside
one sunny morning
wet footfalls
wrapped in a dark blue towel.
 
Once more
she was in a flower shop
collecting fallen petals
they swept away in small heaps.
 
The last time I saw her
was through the window
of a baby shoe store
clearing dust
with eyes like horizon
few sunsets before winter.
 
 
KISS BY THE RIVER
 
I saw her plump lip line wanting to
kiss you
the day near the river
when the sky overcast
tried to spray
the making of happiness
with berry pulp from overturned baskets.
 
I waited for you to finish your kiss
and when the thunder struck
to look at me with your mouths
touch suicides smooching bones
suck out friends and foe friends
also you and her
with lips so thin
 
that finally there is nothing to kiss
still you end up kissing each other
I stand right behind
so you kiss some more
more some.