
nights of my days
I remember
the striking cleanliness of your face
embracing green eyes
and lips
coloured like fire
I remember
3 nights under the Indian sky
and how you ripped a pomegranate in half
the ruby seeds nested in your hands, mouth and hair
I tried to catch them in a cloth
but you told me not to
I remember
your skin wet to the bone dressed in yellows and reds
I remember
rich, swollen earrings dangling from your ears
like figs on a tree
I remember
how we travelled from one corner of the bed to another
away from the sky and the heat
of the evening in Patna
I remember
the hot Madras that burned your lips and made you sweat
I remember
thinking what a lucky man I was
holding your golden body at the bank of the dirty river
letting you sink into the flowers,
broken mangoes and pieces of sandalwood
floating like thoughts

