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by: Sachin Ketkar
| On a murky corrupted afternoon | | as the harsh rains hurt | | the sparrow wings of time
hiding in the tired wet boughs of an unknown tree
or in the gloomy unmanned windows
with its intolerable soaked translucency
I m stranded
in a small grocery shop ,without an umbrella
unable to go to my dank dark house
or return to the dark edge of memory
where I came from
I wish the rain would stop breathing
I wish its heart would die a brain death
I hear it flogging mercilessly
with its silver black whip
I have a reverie of a black-and-blue world
running for cover
I hear the disquieting reminiscence
of an alluring voice dripping wet
from a distant branch calling out to me
I at times wish it would rain on me someday
leave me stranded
between the betweens of the world
I at times see in my trance
my ancient sarcophagus
in your eyes
I dream of my stranded tomb
between the moist love
of your tender breasts
I see my parched fingers thirst
to touch your mad eyelashes
soaked to the skin
in the heavy sterile rains
of my tropical rain forest desire
stranded in the terrible blank space
between
the agonized craving for silken darkness beyond oblivion
and the anguished craving for ripe secrets of your mouth
I stand helplessly waiting for rains
to flood my gutters and streets
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