I saw two curtains sway,
as the fan overhead beat;
one no more chaotic than the other.

In between them, I saw a single streetlight
fluttering into and out of my sight,
blocked by the kisses the curtains shared.

Not a single fibre in their whole composition
was able to stop their motion that day.
They swayed and swayed as if to their content,
a thousand kisses exchanged every second.

The light beat,
The fan beat,
The curtains beat,
But I stayed still.

There was nothing that could move me;
No force that could strain me again.
No love.
No torture.

I may have condescended on their fate,
for their frivolous play seemed doomed to fail.

Because I knew -

once the fan died off and the lights came on,
their little games would draw to an end;
not by choice, not by desire,
but by the workings of this world.

- by Paul Immanuel (Thambu)

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Comments (3)

SS says...

beautiful..i love it..

Indira says...

And by the very same workings of the curtains would sway, new light brought in, new tunes for you to move! Lovely poem Thambu! Always find time for the gift of writing uve bn blessed with.

George Varghees says...

Thambu's poetry is too good for words to express.