Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Adreyo Sen

bedtea in kolkata

I know when it’s time
to bring you tea.

How do I know this?

On the terrace across ours,
the woman dances standing still.

Her hair is a river chasing her ankles.

And yet many have grown
in her slender arms.

She sees me and she blushes.

That’s how I know it’s eight in the morning.
My young lord.


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