Written by Ayush Banerjee
Smell the dampened earth,
for it recites a tale
draped in the aroma of wet lemongrass-
her flimsy fingers brushing my uncombed hair
every stroke felt so unforgettable and familiar;
courage never cherished for a humbler birth.
When she bids me a goodbye,
a flicker of belief
trickles down as hope,
like a tear
from my eye.
Mauve on those cigarette tips
ocean’s blue kissing the hair,
olive nails, preserving the luscious green;
she reminds me
of the calmer sunset sky,
her kind-hearted sins
with no regrets
and a drunken prayer of fondness
held in-between my lips.
When I count her blessings upon me
I find myself in the chilly woods,
stranger to warmth and heat
and if I were to be lost and sick
I’d crawl somehow,
only to catch a glimpse
as her faces sparkles with a glee.
The chirping of a bird
and its wings stuck in a net
built to keep flowers away from the insects,
reminds me of her words, counted
and her voice, bold and husky,
our bitter-sweet mischiefs
choked with despair
when she bid goodbye-
moments when I crave for her even more
like that lullaby sun in grandeur
by a canary
awaiting to be heard.
Mauve on those cigarette tips
ocean’s blue kissing the hair,
olive nails, preserving the lucious green;
she reminds me
of the calmer sunset sky,
her kind-hearted sins
with no regrets
and a drunken prayer of fondness
held in-between my lips.
She lay her skin on my burning agony
like no other woman would ever touch
I watch her leave me with a fortune,
every time-
the wisdom about my body
and every day passing by
brings her closer
to the scratches on my skin
and the stains of my mind
all that I’d wished for myself to never see.
Mauve on those cigarette tips
ocean’s blue kissing the hair,
olive nails, preserving the luscious green;
she reminds me
of the calmer sunset sky,
her kind-hearted sins
with no regrets
and a drunken prayer of fondness
held in-between my lips.
I’ve never known recklessness
in the face of a human
and I’ve never felt the price of freedom
to be her gracious skin
that hides not its cuts and scratches,
soft of a mellow brown
and patches of hair around,
makes me sonder upon
humanity’s helplessness.
Mauve on those cigarette tips
ocean’s blue kissing the hair,
olive nails, preserving the lucious green;
she reminds me
of the calmer sunset sky,
her kind-hearted sins
with no regrets
and a drunken prayer of fondness
held in-between my lips.
And in those days
of awkward silences,
waiting for the eyes to blink
and her laughter at my clumsiness,
the mortal right and wrong
shall never be able to hold me back
for I’ve found her daunting love,
and she’s priceless
to the ordinary chase.
