The Poetry of Prasenjit Maiti
It was an afternoon
when she walked out of our lives
leaving me to savor our dinner
cold and alone
like a heartless collation
What about a woman
without trappings?
What about walking along roads
that are no more?
What about my women
whom I do not meet anymore?
She was spread like fresco
against the rock as I saw her
I like the way young women smell
my cheeks brushing her tender breasts
our lips were smothered and bleeding
and we were taken in for moments
eyes closed and serene
like everlasting stones