by Sutapa Chaudhuri (May 2016)
The heart had long seen through
the deception, it was the mind
that has always refused to believe—
the blood that ran through the veins
had long dyed blue, chill with
the touch of a false love; yet lonely,
the fingers had craved warmth, learning
to trace lies on the skin of a truant lover.
His voice, smooth and seductive,
has forever entranced his gaze
with death, leaving my eyes thirsty
for a drop of life to hold on to.
_______________________________________
Sutapa Chaudhuri has two poetry collections — Broken Rhapsodies and Touching Nadir. My Lord, My Well-Beloved is a collection of her translations of Rabindranath Tagore’s songs.
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