I wonder if this is what I have waited for so long!
My eyes water in a strange way and
I smile and blame those kitchen onions
And I try to smother this uncanny sense
of pain and shame that is a rising volcano.
A lethal thrilling night
My body inflamed and swollen
Like an angry river in wield, tongue roving all over
rummaging my little secrets, Lips wet supple urging me
The room becomes an ocean
And the waves start rocking me
My body tossing like a boat in storm
His whispers fly like a colorful bird
But when I reach out to take it in my palm
It is just beaks, claws, shit.
And I lay there without breathing
My guilt hidden under his chest
My conscience buried beneath his manhood.
Spread like a spent flower
My bones made of jade and coral,
Each time the bird beats her wings
I frantically try to envisage love
But the angry smoke and the furious waves
Lash onto the colorful wall saying lust
There were regret and repentance everywhere
On the upholstered sofa
On the Gujarati stitched bed spreads
Guilt like an ugly bruise with a pale green tint all over.
Now I fancy in my fraught urgency
If I hold my breath and shut my eyes in earnest
And count till ten, would I feel new once again?
And then I rush to the kitchen
Burnt smell of spilled milk all around
I stare and murmur to myself
Soon I will clean it up and begin all over again.