Friend
When I saw us
down a street of shadows
hand in hand
I made my own story
With you
I can make stories by dozens
Of lost loves
violets and pomegranates
and unsung poems
With you
I can float
my paperboat of secrets
peppered with shame
my sighs filling its sails
on the stream of tears
that reflects your face
an azure sky
startled by the green rush
of wild parrots
With you day is day
and night is night
and everything in between
poised, expectant
for a moment of purity
transparent
as a drop of dew
suspended
at the edge of being.
Love and the Holy Book
We stood on the balcony
you and me
listening to the baul with his ektara
our hearts filled with longing
I would like to read your Holy Book someday
I said
by way of feeble conversation
Turning to me
with lips and eyes
of tulips and scented cypresses
you replied
I would love to read you.
*
Add comment