Sunday Poem By Debarati Sen

Mapple Dreams

Today i woke up to a pastel hued morning.
Had a platter of mapple dreams for breakfast!
The sunrays stealing its way through the vertical louvres of the window blinds
Strobed around my room.
The sequins off my dress scattered on the floor
reminded me of our clandestine tyrst last night.
the mosaic verses and the innocuous times.
The sudden cresendo of happy hysteria midst our prosaic lives.
That made me compose haptics poesy
that i could prod on somber noons.
The roaring gush of wind shook me up from my ictus.
The concerto of the drizzle broke my slumber and plunged me into the abyss of reality.
I tumbled headlong.
My body heavy like the tectonic plates
awaited a sesmic realease.
The rhetoric of grief gradually gnawed at my mapple dreams.
Am i still your inamorata?
I try to sleep again.
For my dreams are a safer place.

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