Darkness, the old friend, I hear him whispering.
In my hand the torchlight leaps, and shadows
Lap up at the shore. Shadows fade as I thrust the light.
And then, the truant lover, creeps back.
I talk to darkness, the old friend, as mud
And soil cling to my feet. Together we bleed
In buried wounds, scrubbing grudges and anguish.
I talk to darkness, each shade from the lightest gray
To the deepest black, forming a steely loom.
Darkness and I walk together on the earth’s ribs,
Run along its edges, break loose and roll down
To the bottom, posing as dark marbles.
Darkness and I strip off each other’s skin,
Sit down on the nakedness of rocks,
With crumbling faces, like cursed angels.
(Note: An Ekphrastic poem I had written based on a published photograph of my photographer friend Souvik Chakraborty.)
Photo Courtesy: Souvik Chakraborty. This photo of Souvik, titled ‘Dark Horizon’ has been published in the Gallery 36 of Blur Magazine, dated October 2013.