From the tram-tracks

A thousand nights

Unslept

Unfeeling the weight
of a thousand years

that lay on Her lover.

A crane flies along the skyline

Where steeltowers meander

Where Orion hunts no more.

The lepers are gone

From the hydrants.

The forlorn Doel whistles in vain

at constellations smothered by smog,

at banished Shamas

at screeching Starlings.

Can I be the sand

on his tired feet

Or

Seathing saline hands

scraping his being?

My beloved’s face

was carved in lines

not of Sravasti.

The engine roars,

vibrating wings

a memory.

We totter along

through owling woods

strewing entrails

along the asphalt.

Halfway (to Namkhana)

Sun-skinned,

She turns to me

Smiles:

“My name is Arunima Sanyal

Were you looking for me?”