By: Pijush Kanti Deb

It’s my limpid liking
that she must lilt with me
and express her like-mindedness
to my lonesome world
where
I always linear to the old lines
drawn
sometimes with the essence of fragrant flowers
and sometimes
with the poking of sharp thorns
by someone older than my love
who was sky-touching to my
body, mind and soul
yet
she makes me only a looker-on
to her self-made looking- glass
reflecting my upside down image
and sings an unheard song
loosing her dogmatic grip
wherein I had been a lodger
lolling and longing
for a life-long settlement of interest.