Poetry by Gayatri Majumdar
YOU TREE You tree when everything else dissolves the rain – traffic lights flash in my eye watering fences, madness and chanting. I stone, defenceless. You are tree to me – gentle reminder: this is human love. small change – something unlike bliss – I’m breathless, but alive as much as a human can be. I confess I asked for this – oh, so many times over, the sour-curb side of the mouth, the pickling of the heart, the moon’s slow-curl down the spine unlike death – the rigor mortis setting in. You green about me – my fingers and hair – toes rooting, you remain unmoved. I asked for this? You are the tree in me struggling, uncertain amidst the trouble of unfear – that definitive light falling in your Neptunian eye … this hypothermia preserves me. I am ready to sink lower than this; slow-grounding, tasty bites for the night’s merry-makers.
Gayatri Majumdar, the founder of The Brown Critique(1995–2015), has authored six books. She co-founded ‘Pondicherry Poets’ and curates numerous poetry/music events. Gayatri is associated with Sri Aurobindo Society in Pondicherry
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