Pomegranate lips and
cigarette ends, notes
scribbled in pencil all over
the Communist Manifesto.
Huck Finn and nostalgia,
sweets from Chandannagore,
No exit by Sartre. A favourite
blanket, Oishi's message,
Virginia Woolf's suicide note.
Cold tea in the morning, coffee
in the evening. Sufjan's songs
with weird names and a
poem from long ago when
poetry was still alive.
ESTÁ A LER
Doux
Poesiathe walls with blued body scents soft on the skin, the curtains drawn and a lover asleep close by. ...
