By Susmita Chatterjee Alias Aloakash
As if it was a long drawn wait
As if she is the known one
The people’s sound
And the sound of silence
Pure pleasure of bondless
Bondings
That light
The light of nipple flowers
Upward
Not in direction
But in spin
As if it is a long drawn wait
Of rotation
Or, mutation
Are you seeking in the sought
Or
Are you the seeker of the sought
Your gold face does not speak
Did they say
Did they not
The purity of the pure dumbstruck
That my mother is
Dancing
Her pair of breasts
Erasing divides of rotation
And
Or
Mutation
En masse
In the singularity
Of the direction of Love.
By Susmita Chatterjee Alias Aloakash
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