Nir arching back onto the shadows,
projected against the ripped lanes by encroaching headlights,
an impromptu affair,
the dialogue make-believe,

choreography first engage, then see,
cast of me, chloroformed in a veil with a faded golden streak,
two pebbles spying perpendicular like afraid children.

our gestures jaunt deforested,
an observant sightseer
calls this the most beautiful row of street in the city, perfect for rainbowing bouquets to thw other side,
The time of GDP in pots and kettles, stopping for and crashing through barcodes,
cargo sometimes mad, sometimes vegetative, sometimes sand talaq at the hourglass.

‘I said, I was sorry.’
After intermission, we decide to leave it at cold case.

‘কিন্তু একটু সময় নে’
Our calves saggy and guming on thunderbolts.

‘এক্ষুনি যাবো।’
Policemen at the flat-bed U-bridge are watching us like head-turns at paisa clinks on tile and lose interest just as quick.


Same phrase, gut of the tongue ramming into the crook of paan-blood front teeth.

The forearm grip, the crabbed elbows volts phatomiming as affection let go at the entrance of the seventh hour of load-shedding, past the screw lancing the cork to float inside the bottle of wine that he had unlocked the door with.

‘কিন্তু তোরা তো আর গেলি না, আম্মু, আব্বুর সাথে পরিচয়ও হইল না, গঙ্গাপুত্রও আর ফুল পাইলো না, পাইলো ঘুমে গলা টিপা আর ট্রাক ড্রাইভারের হাত। ‘


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