The Cosmic Woman

stranded in herself

her soul tugs at

the invisible gyve

the light

at the end of the tunnel

distant, cold,white

a planet chained

to its orbit

the indifferent cosmos

has forgotten her

between eclipses

and glares

her craters ache

for a pause

and some respite.

Shiver

 Kissing a thousand frogs

sometimes she would see

the flicker of a prince

lips brushing

tongues digging

fingers that reached

only the cleavage

never the hidden treasure

beneath that skin

bodies and organs

the cosmic dance 

desire,lust,seduction

a missed heartbeat

a moment

liquefied

in the corner of an eye

dreams quiver

and vaporize

time you traitor

kissing the next disguise

she waits to undress

the light

she hides beneath

folds of flesh

and a shiver travels

down her spine.

THE CLOSET

Tentative fingers dive 

into the layers

entangled layers rather

of years together

This smooth cleavage-like

silk scarf from Brugge

A coarse cotton 

hand-loom in Bhutan

hairy, sweaty 

pulsating time

the pairs of watches

never worn together

never torn apart

heartbeat?

and I tug and pull out

the soul beneath flesh

smoke grey

my favorite one

from Istanbul

and it all tumbles out

as tears, memories

bruises and scars

I am a drowning closet

spilled on a cold floor.

Guest Appearance

some absences are conspicuous
looking for something lost
that was never yours

listening to baul songs
I understand nothing
other than the pang
snip,snip,snip

rust mark of a pin
on two papers
they must have been together
long back ago

valentine loneliness creeps
like unusually cold February
grief never fully thaws


The crater in my chest is back
so is the tumor in the spine
love keeps making
guest appearances