INTOXICATED

Blurred morning
Sun’s gaze through curtains,
Illuminating greyest of walls,
Stroking gold on his face.
A dream? Shh! A secret!
That hazy scent…
Fresh and woody
Manly yet gentle
An aftershave?

Lingering fingertips, synchronous heartbeats,
Stars in my head, or a mistake?
Am I enough?
As that magnetic stare
Catches my breath,
Love, a sweet despair,
Remorse messing my hair.
I’m filled up
With bullets in my head.

Beyond Death’s deepest fear
And Love’s utmost hate
Your touch’s a paper-cut, red.
Isn’t it Love’s only color?
Isn’t it what you crave?
When your kiss
Makes me drown in you,
Your ‘poison’
Becomes my fate…

-Sanghamitra Chakrabarty

Copyright © 2015

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