Poem—Ritamvara Bhattacharya

Poetry’s clawed nails thaw through the appetite of the fluffy autumnal sunset clouds –

Her arteries bleed her propensity in the cartridge of the sky –

In the hour between light and usurping darkness, she envelopes the eyebrows of the dense foliage with a sudden chuckle of a water wave –

Poetry death rattles her presence like a crab sliding into the crevice of the soil’s pocket –

Her presence is felt at the daybreak when the sky catches the hum of the sulphur Sun –

Her grip tightens the horizon of my understanding, making me bleed blue with forgetting –

With her supple assurance, I become as facile as water, my tongue licks the ragged edges of the rocks, they shine with their zeal as stars in the sky –

Her appetency reflects tears of my eyes in the well of the world, she is a cinnamon skin woman, she ignites as clove in my stomach -