Sunday, December 13, 2015

Amitabh Mitra writes

Paris 
13 November 2015 
Nights and days 
In a lyric 
Fell down suddenly 
With a sky 
Bereft of stars 
Silence 
Silence 
Silence 
Stood still 
Its conscience riddled 
With bullets 
Didn’t die 
Its pupils widened 
Only for a while 
I wondered 
Love 
Does it have preconditions? 
Rich or 
Poor 
Your lipstick stains 
I didn’t bother to erase that day 
And being in love 
A million times 
Before a heart finally stops 
Impermanent in congruency 
Silence again 
Conscience struggles 
Then 
Talks 
A whiff of a wind 
Left Paris  
Inconclusive 
The orange oche we saw 
Were only shooting stars 
In eternity 
Silence 
Silence 
Silence 
 It just started talking again

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