Saturday, February 14, 2009


That evening
We had thought
We’d make memorable
Shall sit across the smooth edges
Of an elliptical table
Stretch out our close-fisted palms
In warm handshakes
Tease the yawning years
Into easy wakefulness
Dip our frail fingers
In dewy silences
Seal the loneliness
Of weary hearts
By toasting drinks
We had thought
Time would shrink
To the size of our memories
And vast deserts
Shall drown
In the moist, liquid eyes
We had thought and hoped
But nothing of the kind happened
We remained marooned
In our silences
Our several voices trapped
In the crisis of selfhood
Crooned endlessly
Mise en scene
Of some surreal film
The warm handshake
The dewy silences
The moist, liquid eyes
Hung across the pallid wall
Like an old painting
Out of sight, forgotten and dust-laden
Vast deserts
Edged closer to our hearts
Memories reduced to a junk-heap
Lay crumpled under the table
Shared past
Danced in the shadowy background

Yes, it was
A Walpurgisnacht of vagrant souls
Floating helplessly
Inside a liquor bottle.

1 comment: