Falling Skies
written by: Sobhan Pramanik
@SobhanPramanik
To my new lodging,
I have finally moved.
And oozing from
the mauve colored
walls is a dank odour
of drying paint.
Wafting invisibly, like
heat from asphalt on
blazing summer days.
Its rancid stench
nooses my breath,
and stirs my guts.
So unlike the easy air
homes always wear.
In my duffel
I have carried the
lavender air-freshener.
Its whiff, I remember,
you loved in our room –
hanging,
textured with light,
where we snuggled
close in a sheet,
and watched
your relaxed eyes
close, sedated by
the perfumed air.
I spray it here
all over again,
into the dark
toxic air.
Its aerosol mist
hangs for a while,
and then, like a
pensive garden breeze
climbing to rooms,
renders my living
with familiar touches
of a cherished past.
Wait in the air, oh love!
Wait for me to sleep.
Before you part
through the window
into the violet
night sky, and
the constellation crumbles
upon my reverie,
into decayed petals
of a love dead
in my heart.
- Oh! Poor Man - February 8, 2018
- It’s Okay - January 20, 2018
- Fools, Flowers and Falls - January 2, 2018
