It is June once again,a come back for the seasons
Wiping off the dust from earth’s chest and her children.
Time for you to lie in the cosy bed,morning to evening
And evening to dawn,upon the bundle of flesh huddled underneath.
Struggling to drag a gush of air,her chest too crammed.
I endure your two hundred pounds,your dribbling saliva,
The salty odour of your sweat,trickling between my breasts.
I bear the bitterness of your snore,late night curses,
The murmers about coarseness of skin and plumpiness of waist.
Beneath the burden,through your dark broad shoulders
I watched the sparrows pecking and mating on the window sill.
Their nearness,towing to be in each other,left me covetous.
You are away,far away in a dream,in the middle of night
I,counting the moments,yearning for affection,lie beside.
When the sun is out again,from behind the swarthy clouds,
You walk away,and I regret,for squandering one more monsoon.

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

2 thoughts on “Regret

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    The peerless, finely pointed exquisite detail imparts to the reader a cinematic perspective at once intimate and incisive.This is a work redolent of a Hitchcock-like emotional claustrophobia and the beating of birds’ wings on our fragile psychological carapace.

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