It’s quiet now; he has stopped playing the piano,
He might resume it sometime later. It’s quiet now.
For a while. I can’t recall faces anymore, an eye here,
A nose there, a body waxed thin in the memory,
Each looking like a clone of the other. Faces contradict
The names; it’s always an alien hand that leans over to
Touch me. It flounders for a while reminding itself of my
Crevices, gently mocking at the carpet burns on my back,
Lingering on every memory that my body holds as secrets.
It’s not easy, darling, to erase a man from the body,
It’s much easier to measure longings…
There are other things, darling, that I wish to tell you, but
Oh, that wretched piano…
Now Playing:: Neele neele amber par........Kishore Kumar