Notes from a Postcard by Jagari Mukherjee

(for Inam)

On my postcard tinted

with cherry blossoms,

I scribble notes for you

like a teenager lovelorn,

and blush at my words

of desire.

Spring has brought  flowers

to my door. I search for

you in the story of Mayakovsky.

The salt I mix with my fruit

becomes the tinge of your

mouth on mine, 

and my wooden hairbrush

guiltily plucks a strand that carries

your scent.

My postcard, too, has a fragrance

the texture of your breathing:

I inhale your roughness in the

ambrosia of a close-eyed  kiss.

From Letters to Inamorato