Sunday Poem By Debarati Sen

Sunday Poem By Debarati Sen

I hide consonants under broken finger nails

I hide consonants under broken finger nails and deliver a bravura performance. No, you cannot decipher my fatigue. I dress up spectacularly bathed in turmeric yellow like a wedding ritual. With my metaphoric verses I paint the sky's tripod extravagantly baroque! Neon coloured tinges are strewn across the horizon's bosom. Just like my broken nails tinctured with the coral blue nail paint. Hiding a million consonants beneath its hue. With pebbles inside my pocket I relentlessly stare at the ethereal skyline. It looks like a tumbled bottle of exotic Petite Sirah! A new day has come! Bearing the fragrance of new hopes. Silently I sit on my old wooden chair Hoping for the rain to wash this world off its pandemic. Time stands still. Like a spring evening that has come empty handed. I check my nails Its time for a manicure. But before that, I need to hide my consonants somewhere else! Slowly, I pack them in a metal box and throw them away in the sea of esoterica till my nails grow back again.