Monday, February 14, 2011

Khajurao hymns

I was lost in my sentences, as if, when you arrived,
when you arrived, with a script without words.

There was no drama. Life unfolded petals
and my butterfly passions smelt nectar and flew.

The flight into dark recesses of your arms-
lit only by meteor flashes in your eyes.

Your eyes unloaded my touches at ports
where seekers find redemption and sin.

Like sin, my language utterly unabashed
now strives to carve Khajurao hymns for you.

(Poem appeared in my first book: Saga of a Crumpled Piece of Paper, Writers Workshop, Calcutta)

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