Chittaranjan Dash, Delhi, 17 March 2024
Last of the lovers depart.
On the grass, footprints of loners.
Shadows of rivers moving to wombs.
A ripple of dark in hearts.
Soliloquies, moon and crickets.
Should I close the blinds?
Remnants of light linger through windows.
They say doppelgängers exist.
Memory is a capsized boat.
To my own heart I return.
