Forlorn

 

Did I lose you somewhere
Between the hyacinth and the ribbons
The pleats and folds of my adult drape?

I know you still wait for me, my moon
As the night flutters, the unfailing rose
Drunk with solitude and honeyed longing.

I breathe shallow and deep, my eyes
Swept away by stardust, I am alone
Your milk, eager and firm, waits for me
At the shore of the night.

Between my trembling lips and voice,
Your song hides in the fugitive wind,
Slender and silent, you walk away,
Barefoot, soaking in the night’s last ashes.

Did I call you, my white hills
Breaking, sinking at the wake of dawn?
I return to the day, dust blown
Crushing sand beneath my feet,

You have sliced me to pieces,
I move, unsure, forlorn, in spirals
Of smoke as I call you out
My moorings trapped in the day, dying.

Lopa Banerjee. Written in February 2015

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About Lopa Banerjee

Lopa Banerjee has studied Creative Nonfiction at the University of Nebraska at Omaha and has a Masters' in English and Journalism from Kolkata, India. She has written a a book-length collection of personal essays and also a poetry collection. She is a regular contributor to 'Cafe Dissensus', an alternate journal of literature and the arts. Her poetry and essays have also appeared at journals and anthologies including 'Fine Lines', 'About Place', 'Yahoo Voices', 'Northeast Review', 'River Poets' Journal', 'Indian Review', ‘The Mind Creative’, 'Prairie Fire' and 'Incredible Women of India'.

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