Poetry

A Foreign Land: Mandakranta Sen

Wait, before being torn and ripped
Let me memorise your lips
The border of grass beyond
The lips; the slightly fragile
Intensity; the danger-engendering
Heat; the irresistible, excellent
Rain; so much of it, so much
And, on this bursting summer day,
From the northwest corner of your lips
A storm arrives

I stand with my feet on the frontier
Within our lips there’s a growth of
Barbed wire. Say I’m dying to visit
Your lips today, I think it will
Take many years. Still, tell me
Try to remember and then tell me
What was it that really changed
After our lips were partitioned
Besides our kisses?

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