Poem: My Borrowed Lover – Joyashree Sarma

Did the silence of the winter night hear us?

Our tongues speak not the same

but i know how it tastes when it feels mine.

The Muezzin’s call tells us its dawn

As we enter the alleys not unknown

Wrapped in colors of blue, red and green

In whispers, we tell our dreams.

I am floating away amongst clouds of grey

You tell me its day.

Grey.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s