Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Pijush Kanti Deb


It’s my limpid liking
that she must lilt with me
and express her like-mindedness
to my lonesome world
I always linear to the old lines
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
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.


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