3. SHAPTAMI

SUDEEP SEN

 

Morning’s afterglow.
                                       I wake up alone —
my bed full of crushed shiuli,
             its scent infusing my tea
with a taste I had not known before.
 
I sip the heat gently,
                          I inhale in slow-motion,
I imagine the dawn’s light to be brighter
than it actually is —
             my lips, stained with memory.
It is only the seventh day.
 
She will bloom
                          in her full glory, tomorrow —
Ashtami’s climax, awaiting.

 
 

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