Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Widow's drape

White
as black
as a widow's drape
will be my attire
Your ego
marked
my attire
with
the colour of
wakching's frost
Black chandon from my nose
crawling up my forehead
Deep and dark
as long winters' night
I mourn your death
with my hueless life
My present smudged
by your absence
My lips unpolished
My hair locked
in a bun
Malacious whispers
welcome my arrival
at dusk
They grudge me
a thambal leikhok
Framed forever
in a monochrome
At every feast
the serpent streets
scorns me
with
an ice cold marble reception

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©

2 comments:

  1. i love the way you have written..i like the way it slowly sinks in and you can feel the consciousness of each movement, each detail.
    if possible do check my poetry blog
    http://renegadetimetraveller.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete