Love Poetry by Gayatri Majumdar

I'M YOURS

If you must,
	consume me in totality 
		leave no trace – 
no fragrance, no rain,
not even whisperings
	among seeds bursting to ground
and shed-music of falling meteors – 
find me that obeisance rest of your red honeysuckle
	agreeing with the sweet daft.
Slay me, if you must,
	for I am yours,
but spare me the brutalities 
of certain birthing, happy endings.


LOVE

As I fall into your arms,
I can hear the distinct click of the jail door 
in a rusty corner of the galaxy.

You, my lover, were impatient for this precise moment
dispersing me to light
the night’s jazz fused with cosmic dust and saxophone. 

You steady your gaze, 
your belief in me unwavering
even as I
howling to moon and street lights,
grapple with my weakening knees
– tremble, unable to pin the ‘pain’.

You, my lover, were certain this would be the precise moment 
when I’d return your gaze – 
broken, wanting all the love your petalled heart can hold
– demanding, dissolving 
into the light-substance of your presence,
this night’s other delights 
twigging, drumming to my heartbeats.

I marvel at the precision of your timing,
just when I thought all that is not there, seems lost;
You appear, materialise
Stuck as you are, in me,
in this garden
of crooked pathways, wayward roots whispering – 
sleep hours of creatures and last sips of tea.

This time I’m certain,
your departure is imminent – you take with you the night’s last melody – 
the seasons will change
as the ethers of your blues ache,
return those lost hours to me . . .

You begin to perfect the tribhanga*,
your flute wafting the stones and trickery. 

*Krishna’s tribhanga (“three parts break”) pose.