On a Cloudy Day
She goes to shower, leaving her nakedness
On the bed and I go out wearing it on my soul
Looking for eggs, milk and fresh-baked garlic breads
The sky is now full of clouds, their shapes
Resemble my friends, relations. It rained last night
Inside the room, soaked and drenched we searched
For each other, in darkness, wrote our names on
Each other’s back. But I reckon, calling each other’s
Name out would have sufficed. You see, it’s all like poetry
That doesn’t have a place to reach. That doesn’t want
To hold hands and say—“au revoir, keep well”.
|