My Be-Loved : A Ghazal

Yesterday, we went too far on the hill

I saw an abandoned car on the hill

At last my beloved was far in my head

so my silence broke too hard on the hill

Shrieks of ink left their crumpled  shelter

for he stepped on pastel shards on the hill

I prepared to stir life into the death of love

but we met Mr Kumar on the hill

We skipped the belts of Lantana flowers

to stop at the stifled bazaars on the hill

We walked beyond the Kerala farms

and crossed to the reservoir on the hill

To tell him my hands crave sweet solitary

Then Saumya can smoke a cigar on the hill

Edited by Rangoli Gupta

• fiction
• love
• poetry