by Gopikrishnan Kottoor
What promises you made without telling me;
and drifted in ways only you can drift by-
why should I not know the things you do;
when you come to hello and go goodbye?
You have an intelligence all your own,
when it comes to longing, when it comes to love,
and its expectations that even you can't control;
what shapes of lips you love, what movement of thighs-
in the quieter waterfalls of night;
what breaks of guitar strings that tunes sand dunes?
Never mind she is not meant for you, if you wed her
she won't rescind, beyond the glitter of her evening clothes
for all the paper boats of love you carry to sail on her river,
she is just another beautiful sin.
From:
The Zong
Copyright ©:
Gopikrishnan Kottoor
Last updated May 31, 2012